Rendezvous with Destiny
by Beastbot X
Summary: NEW! PART 2 OF 5 UP. "Season 8"/Final Season Finale. Thought "Ascension" was his full plan? Apocalypse finally shows his entire hand, and leaves the X-Men- and the world- devastated by what's coming. With his new Horsemen at his disposal and the completion of a plan millennia in the making, nothing will ever truly be the same. Thirty-eighth in my X-Men Evolution series.
1. Chapter 1

"Rendezvous with Destiny, Part I: A Blink in Time"

by Beastbot

_(Author's Note: Welp, here we go. I've been building up to this for a looong time now, and I hope you folks enjoy the finale to my series. There'll be a relatively short epilogue after this five-parter that's outside of the thirteen-episodes-a-season structure, but everything comes to a head here. I saved this big Apocalypse thing until the end not just to—in a way—mirror how the TV series ended, but also because I literally couldn't think of a way to top it in terms of scale and impact. I hope it meets and then surpasses your expectations. Enjoy!_)

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><p>"<em>You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness." <em>

–Ronald Reagan

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><p><em>READING DISK…<em>

_ 5 LOGS FOUND._

_ PLAY YES/NO?_

_ LOADING..._

_ "—derstand why this is necessary. Out of all the incredible technology here, why just use a regular video camera? I feel like I'm on some crummy reality show or something."_

_ "Because, Blink, it's going to be distributed en masse once we're done—once the New World Order is established, and all that. And—at the beginning at least—the technology we have here won't be widespread. We'll have to make do with the tech most people have access to."_

_ "But why would they care? If anything, they'd want me dead."_

_ "What, are you talking about the humans, or the Mutants?"_

_ "Well… both, kinda."_

_ "Well, the un-evolved masses don't matter. I think Apocalypse's plan has made that blatantly clear to all of us. But as for the Mutants… this is to help them understand us, to empathize with us, to understand that this is how it has to be. And since the five of us—well, nine, technically, but you know what I mean—will be the most well-known and powerful Mutants in the world soon, we need to show them our point of view—what drove us to this, and why it's for the betterment of all."_

_ "Huh. Okay, then… I guess. Do I just speak, or—"_

_ "Face the camera. Let your emotions come to you naturally, and then start at the beginning. Let me know when you're ready."_

_ "Alright, just give me… wait, the red light on it is blinking."_

_ "It is? How… oh, I must have accidentally hit it when I was setting it on the tripod. No matter, we'll edit this first part out later. Just nod when you want me to start asking the prompts."_

_ …_

_ "Okay, I'm ready."_

_ "Alright. Please state your name for those viewing."_

_ "Blink. Soon to be more widely known as the Horseman, Famine."_

_ "And your human-given name?"_

_ "It's…. oh, geez. Is it bad that I have to think about it for a second? It's been so many years since I've been called by it… My original name was Clarice. Clarice L'Heureux."_

_ "Sounds French."_

_ "It is. I was born in France."_

_ "Interesting… you haven't the slightest French accent."_

_ "Well, it's… been a while. I haven't spoken French since… well, almost as long as it's been since I answered to Clarice."_

_ "And how long was that?"_

_ "It's been about 208 years, now."_

_ "And yet you look like you're in your mid-twenties."_

_ "I am. I don't have some sort of accelerated healing factor like you do."_

_ "I imagine you'll want to elaborate on that. The floor is yours."_

_ "I was born in 1785, outside of Paris. I had a pretty unremarkable childhood, all things considered. A bit on the peasant-y side of things, but… not awful. Of course, anyone who's familiar with history knows that the infamous French Revolution started just a few years after I was born. My earliest memories were of my family just keeping to ourselves—we stay away from the violent upheaval, and it'll stay away from us, my parents said._

_ "But that wasn't enough, of course. The violence swept across France, regardless of whether you wanted it or not. And it wasn't just the usual violence you think of when you think of more formal warfare, no—people who supported feudalism in France—and even those who refused to take a side—were pulled apart, tortured, raped, set on fire… things really started to get bad when I was seven. A fire had been set to our village, and we were forced to flee—right into the hands of our enemy. _

_ "It's funny… for the next two years, I thought that the ones who got pulled apart or guillotined, like my father… that they were the lucky ones. The rest of my family got put in prison, left to rot there. We were given just enough food and water to survive, but we were in near constant pain from hunger pangs and dehydration. Two of my three younger siblings died in jail, one from malnutrition and another from a sickness I couldn't identify at the time—the rats were everywhere, as were the diseases they carried._

_ "Two years later, in 1794, my mother had had enough. I think the second of her children dying was what triggered it, but I'm not sure. But some time after that, she just… lost all hope. Didn't talk, just sat. Thought. My surviving brother and I, we tried to get her to talk to us, but I think the more we pestered her the more we ate away at her remaining sanity._

_ "So, a couple of weeks later she called the guards and, to my shock, fingered me. Said that I was the little rebel in the family, the rest of them were innocent and they were sorry for keeping it a secret from those in power at the time, they had just wanted to protect their daughter, but they felt I wasn't worth it anymore—that I had been plotting against them even in jail. She… she said that you could tell my guilt just by looking at me. I didn't look right, my skin was turning pale, a little purplish even. We had privately just figured it was some sort of reaction to malnutrition, some unknown disease, or a lack of sunlight—you have to understand, it's not like we had ever even heard of Mutants. Plus, we were in the dark so often my skin color didn't come up much, anyways._

_ "Regardless, the guard took me out, and after going through a few 'trials' I was declared guilty and sentenced to the guillotine. To be quite honest, I was relieved when I heard the verdict—I had been betrayed by everyone I knew, I was scared why my skin was changing into such a strange color, and I just… I didn't have anything to live for. I had seen nine years of life, and I wanted no part of it._

_ "Of course, it appeared that the universe had other plans for me. Despite the fact that I was ready to die, when the date came I got really, really nervous. Freaked out so much as they dragged me through the raging masses who pummeled me with objects large and small that I vomited three times, emptying what little contents remained in my stomach. After a walk through the enraged masses that seemed to take forever, I was led to the guillotine. I looked briefly at my mother and remaining brother, who were in the audience—looking for guilt, rage, anything. But nothing remained in their cold, dark eyes. To my young mind at least, they were unreadable._

_ "And then I heard the blade come down and I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come… only I never felt the blade. I opened my eyes again and found myself surrounded by a constant pink aura. All I could make out outside of the pink light surrounding me was an empty blackness, punctuated by little pinpricks of light that constantly and abruptly changed their positions. Every now and then—barely just enough time for my brain to register it—I glimpsed a large colored orb somewhat close to me._

_ "I wasn't really anywhere, and yet I was practically everywhere at the same time. The shock, the stress of the guillotine just about to drop had finally triggered my mutation—only I couldn't control it. Since I have no limit as to how far I can teleport—at least as far as I can determine—I was teleporting all over the universe to completely random spots. The little pinpricks of light were the star fields abruptly changing, the larger orbs stars or planets I saw for the briefest fraction of a second before I teleported away from them again. I imagine I also teleported a sphere of air around me with myself, and constantly darting to-and-fro across the universe so quickly it didn't really have time to dissipate into space much. I've since learned that when I teleport, I encase myself in a protective sphere of energy for a very short time—that's what causes the light. Since I was constantly teleporting, the protective sphere never went away, so I didn't begin to feel the effects of being out in the cold of space._

_ "Of course, I didn't have the slightest idea what was going on at the time. I only figured this out later. At that time, I just completely lost it. I started to hyperventilate, and that combined with the complete lack of nourishment in my system and the rapidly flashing pattern of lights in my vision quickly got to me. Although it seemed like an eternity in my mind, it was probably only about four or five minutes later that I went into a seizure. The last thing I thought of before I faded out was my home outside of Paris, the way it was before it was burned to the ground._

_ "When I came to again, I was there. The field outside of Paris—I couldn't believe it, but then I was in such a trance-like state after what had just happened that I just accepted it anyways—I had come to the conclusion that I was dreaming. Once I gathered my senses, I took a look around—and found no trace of my village, despite the topography matching what I remembered exactly. As far as I can tell, that last thought of mine—home—must have focused my power enough where I actually teleported to where I had thought of, and stayed there instead of continuing to teleport around randomly._

_ "Anyways, I saw a house—a rather odd-looking one—on a distant hill. I walked up to it, knocked on the door, and the people who answered it were dressed in clothes the likes of which I had never seen before. There was also some sort of box in the living room behind them, displaying images that seemed to me to be magical. They freaked out at my appearance, I freaked out at theirs and their 'magic box'—and this time, I teleported away, purposefully._

_ "Over the next few days, I found out that, no, I wasn't in a dream—it had lasted too long, hurt too much, to not be real. The technology everyone was using was practically beyond my comprehension—but, by stealing a few things like makeup, I was eventually able to blend into society. That was the one good thing about the situation, at least—given my powers, I could take just about anything I wanted, find out any information I wanted._

_ "To my surprise, I soon found out that the year was 1987. Over time, I emigrated to the United States—now the center of power in the world—learned English pretty thoroughly, and led a life on the outskirts of society. I never stayed in one place for long, of course, but I stole and stashed considerable amounts of money from every currency you could think of hidden in various nooks and crannies around the world. I used them to live a pretty decent life, usually taking up residence in various hotels over the years for a few days under a false identity before continuing to move on. I even—heh—I even have a stash on the Moon for a lot of the REALLY valuable stuff I've stolen over the years. I know exactly where they all are—I can quickly teleport there and back in less than a second. You know how governments tend to 'lose' sums of money that are large by themselves, but still small in the overall picture of how much they spend every year? More of that than you'd think is in one of my stashes._

_ "Still, one gaping question eluded me—how the heck did I manage to teleport almost two hundred years into the future in the space of what was just a few minutes to me? It took me a long time, but eventually I read a theory in a popular science magazine one day a few years ago, and so far it's the only explanation that's made remotely any sense._

_ "I'm sure you're familiar with the idea that gravity and time are related—quantum physics, Einstein, and all that stuff. Well, there's a theory that black holes have gravity that's so intense, if somehow a person was to slowly pass through one and survive, as they neared the event horizon—the center plane, basically—time would speed up more and more from their perspective. They would literally watch the rest of the universe die out and fade into oblivion within seconds. And, as far as I can figure, that's what happened to me, albeit so swiftly I didn't realize it at the time. During one of my thousands—perhaps even hundreds of thousands—of teleports in the span of that couple of minutes or so that I was criss-crossing throughout the universe, I must have gotten near a black hole. Close enough where was I sucked down just a tad towards the event horizon, but so incredibly briefly that I didn't really start to feel the effects of the gravity—I wasn't crushed, after all. So during that tiniest miniscule fraction of a second that I was near a black hole, I must've been pushed forward two hundred years. It doesn't quite seem possible, but, well—none of my experiences that day did. That's the best explanation I've been able to come up with."_

_ "Very interesting. You've certainly led a very unique life. Before I finish this interview, though, I'd like to ask you one last question—why did you decide to join us? What about Apocalypse appealed to you, and how did you figure out that he was right?"_

_ "My experience—my history. My childhood in the French Revolution made me realize this more than any one other thing, but—humans are animals. There are no depths to which they will not sink—not even someone you think you know was a good person, like my mother. Eventually she got desperate enough where she resorted to her own base, self-preserving desires—and if it killed one of her children, then that was fine with her. Humans can't be trusted to look after themselves—no, someone better than them has to do it for them. They don't know what they need and what they don't need, and even if they do they'll ignore it for some temporary self-satisfaction. Logic is brief and fleeting in the human brain. I find it interesting, how so many individuals seem to tote how 'wonderful' democracy is, but in fact it's a cancer. Just look at the world today—it's taken a few hundred years, sure, but dictatorships and more 'repressive' forms of government are coming back. Democracy, republics—they've failed. People cannot govern themselves. Up until recently, the only real solution to that was to have the 'best' of them govern—but even then, as one can plainly see, the 'best' humans can get corrupted and go down the road._

_ "We're better than that, however. We're the next stage of human evolution, after all—it's a self-evident fact. I thought Magneto understood that, but unfortunately he had enough human left in him that he was corrupted by that power, too. I've seen Apocalypse's vision for the future—a future without humans, only Mutants—and although not completely perfect, it's a very large step up from what we've got going on now. After the Reaping, the world will at last be a safe, logical place that finally makes sense. We'll only have a few rulers—Apocalypse and us, his Horsemen—overseeing everything, assuring that the evolution of the human race continues to grow into something better, something worth saving. And when it's time for whatever follows us, Apocalypse will gladly turn over power. But people need kings and rulers, and from what I've glimpsed of his mind, En Sabah Nur is the one to lead us all._

_ "And to those Mutants who are watching this and wondering how I can approve 'genocide' while condemning the actions of the French Revolution and my mother—you're comparing apples to oranges, I'm afraid. Humans, as I said, are animals, and now we finally have a better alternative. So don't ever, EVER think twice about killing a human, particularly if they're in the way. What we're doing—what we've done—is no different than clearing out a bunch of anthills to make way for the foundation of a house. It's Progress defined—and those of us who stand in the way of that Progress deserve to suffer the same fate as the ants, too."_

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><p>"I can't believe it's already that time of the year again."<p>

"Yeah, Bobby, it's amazing how time flies when someone isn't trying to _kill us_ every week," Jubilee said, reclining back in her chair as the various X-Men present gathered in the meeting room, the large decorated Christmas tree in the center surrounded by presents for everyone.

"Well, there's a part of me that hopes that our roster doesn't continue to expand so much," Rogue said, coming over and sitting back in her own seat. "It's gettin' more and more expensive to get everyone presents. Next year I think I might just start giving presents to groups of you guys, instead."

"You guys should just do the Hanukkah thing," Kitty said. "Little gifts."

"Yeah, but they're over several _days_," Jubilee replied. "Isn't that, like, _more_ than a Christmas haul overall?"  
>"…Sometimes. It doesn't have to be."<p>

"I think we all know that these gifts, they are not the true meaning of Christmas—or the holiday season," Piotr said, glancing at Kitty briefly before amending the end of his sentence. "Being together, getting to see our families… this is the true meaning."

"Well, that and the whole 'Jesus being born' thing," Paige smirked.

"I don't know guys, I'm still just a little nervous," Cessily said from her spot on the ground near the tree. "Last year at about this time, well… on the way home some of us got attacked by the Brotherhood 2.0. Not a fun time. I just… w-worry about things this time of year. Like someone will try to take advantage of the whole situation again."

"Oh, come _on_," Bobby said. "Magneto and Mystique are dead; the Acolytes are being held by S.H.I.E.L.D., who have also turned those Brotherhood losers into a surprisingly effective special ops team, from what I've heard; the few Mutants out there who still aren't on our side—like Gambit or the Morlocks—aren't against us, either; and it being the holiday season, Mayor Kelly's off on holiday along with any other politician that could cause trouble for us. What could happen?"

A couple of the X-Men gathered around the tree just stared at Bobby, while a few others chuckled.

"Ohmigod, you did NOT just say that," Jubilee said, edging a bit away from the ice-encased Mutant. "You did NOT just jinx us."

"Oh, come on!" Bobby said, laughing. "You don't really believe in that kinda stuff, do you?"

"I've watched enough television to know what happens when someone says something like _that_."

"Yes, because television equals reality. Smart thinking, Jubes."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't tempt—"

"Okay, the last of us are here!" Hank said loudly as he, Maverick, and a reluctant Laura entered the room, interrupting Bobby and Jubilee's dialogue as everyone focused on Beast. "Now, who's going to be the 'Santa' this year?"

Laura murmured something to herself and crossed her arms. Maverick quietly chided her and led her to a seat. Only a few paid attention, long having gotten used to Laura's questioning of any sort of "useless" traditions—it didn't take much imagination to guess what she had been muttering about, anyways.

For those who were paying attention closely enough, however, just the slightest hint of a smirk came on her face for a moment as Jamie—in the seat next to her—started to chant, "Please be me, please be me…"

"Here's the hat—everyone's names are in it," Scott said, handing Hank's upturned low-brimmed gray hat over to Xavier. "Care to do the honors again, Professor?"

"I'd be happy to," Xavier smiled, pulling one of the many slips of paper out of the hat and unfolding it. "And the gift-giver this year is… Roberto!"

"Aww…" Jamie frowned.  
>"Alright, finally!" Roberto said, pumping a fist in the air as he got up, put on the Santa hat, and made his way over to the tree, looking amongst the presents. "Let's see, first present is… from me, to Rahne!"<p>

"What a surprise," Rogue murmured quietly as Roberto picked up the small gift and took it over to a visibly excited Rahne. "Y'know, I'm hardly Laura when it comes to Christmas or anything like that, but I don't really get _this_ part of it—we definitely didn't do it the first Christmas I was here, when it was just me and eight others. What's the big deal about being the one to hand out the gifts? Why can't we all just give our gifts out to each other whenever we want to?"  
>"Mass chaos, that's why," Paige smiled. "Trust me, being someone who's come from a big family—you get the people who are the most eager to get the presents bugging everyone, while a couple always 'abstain' and want to open theirs last. Not to mention you've also got the people most eager to have their presents opened and those who don't really care either way. It gets to be a mess quickly. Picking someone who's the 'gift giver', it just makes things go more smoothly…. though of course, when someone like Roberto gets picked, that means all the gifts to and from him get opened first…"<p>

"Doesn't matter to me—like Rogue, I didn't bother putting my name in the hat," Alex said, reclining back in his own chair, hands behind his head. "I'm just glad to finally have my bro—and his wife, now—with me and my foster parents this Xmas, y'know? Way too many Xmases have passed with us separate. And then next Xmas, Scott and I will go stay with Jean's family, sort of switch back and forth."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to be a bit more interesting, this time," Rogue said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over Rahne's excited thanks to Roberto—apparently he had gotten her a novel she had been dying to read. Glancing over at Laura and Maverick, she continued, "The crew left here when everyone who has a home leaves tomorrow… it's gonna be a bit different than usual."

* * *

><p>"I'm nervous. Are you nervous?"<p>

"Of course I'm nervous, Blink," Rockslide said, doing the equivalent of rolling the small glowing white cracks in his face that were essentially his eyes. "I'm just not a chatterbox when I _get_ nervous. Shut up already."

"This is unlike you, Blink," the Five-in-One all replied.

"You're only saying that because all of you haven't had that… diamond-thing… inside your head like I have. You haven't experienced it. It just… it opens up _everything_. It's been four long, long months since Apocalypse let me glimpse it. The wait has been agonizing… and now it's finally, _finally_ almost here."

"Yeah, well, I'll see how well it holds up to your expectations," Rockslide rumbled. "I think you were just overwhelmed, from… whatever it showed you. I've learned from experience, nothing is THAT good. There's always a downside."

"Are you… are you saying you don't trust Apocalypse?" the Five-in-One said. "He's allowed us to scan his mind, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard what all of you have seen in his head," Rockslide said. "And the thing I'M saying is that he's the most powerful Mutant in the world. How do you KNOW he's giving you full access?"

"I know he's given me full access," Blink said, crossing her arms. "I can't tell you how anymore—my access to that diamond-thing's information has been cut off after my brief glimpse—but he's not holding anything back. Besides, if you don't trust him, why have you been with us for this long?"

"I'm not saying that I distrust him. I'm not saying that I _trust_ him, either. I don't know yet," Rockslide sighed. "Look, I've been picked on, used, or been an outcast pretty much all my life, okay? I'm not exactly the most trusting type. So give me a break. If he turns out to be the real deal, then good for all of us. And good for the world. But I'm not gonna be surprised if he ends up screwing us over once this all takes off. Just be ready for anything, is all I'm saying."

"You don't need to complain to ME about being a distrustful outcast," Blink mumbled.

Rockslide was about to respond when the door they had all been standing in front of slid open—on the other side stood Sinister, Apocalypse, and a few H.Y.D.R.A. techs fiddling with several pieces of silver tech in the middle of the large room.

Although the pieces of technology had clearly been separate, when combined together and stood up against one wall they formed a structure that had the rough shape of the Greek letter Ω, with the center of the circular part hollow.

"Alright, we're just about ready to fire it up," Sinister smiled. "You all can come in, now."

"So this leads to 'Utopia', I take it?" Rockslide asked. "Once it's activated, I mean."

Sinister opened his mouth to reply, but Apocalypse uncharacteristically cut in.

"It is not called Utopia, and it never was. It will be the center from which we will orchestrate our assault, and from which we will govern this new world, but the place was created as a military craft and it has always been my intention to use it as one."

"But it'll usher in Utopia," Rockslide said.

"…Yes," Apocalypse replied, his face unreadable. "After the required purifying this world will need."

"Uh-huh," Rockslide said, obviously unconvinced. "So when exactly will this big reveal of your existence to the world and the 'purifying' take place? 'Cause we've been working for you for months now and we haven't seen squat. You'll pardon me if I'm getting a bit impatient."

One end of Apocalypse's lips curled up in a slight smirk. "When you have been alive as long as I have, you realize how quick mere 'months' pass. But your concern is noted, and is justified. You want to see your reward. Now is the time to tell you, then—there are but two more steps for us to accomplish, and then I will divide the artifact into enough component parts for all of you, and will fully activate them. You will become my Horsemen then, and your powers… will become beyond what you have dreamed possible."

"And this artifact—I don't suppose it'll take control of our minds like you did with your previous four Horsemen, will it?"

Blink and the Five-in-One both visibly balked at Rockslide's brutally honest question, but Apocalypse's expression didn't change one bit.

Looking Rockslide right in the eyes, Apocalypse said firmly, "No. It will not. I realize now that that was my mistake last time—relying on mind control. I need _willing_ servants—otherwise I leave a gaping flaw that my enemies will no doubt exploit again."

Rockslide nodded. "Fair enough."

"However, that being said," Apocalypse continued, his tone taking on a colder feel, "Never forget that you—and everyone else—is my subordinate. If I ever so much as sense a real intention to overthrow me, be assured that I will crush it. Swiftly."

"Hey, if you do what you say you're going to, I've got no beef with you being the boss," Rockslide shrugged.

"Good, because we're going to need all of you quite a bit over the next few days," Sinister finally cut in. "My technicians are having quite a difficult time getting this thing together, and Apocalypse's detailed knowledge of the artifact was…. taken… from him after abandoning the Eye of Ages in space-time. It took all of H.Y.D.R.A.'s available resources to manufacture this portal device based on Apocalypse's vague recollection of its blueprints, and even then we had to create it in several pieces, as you can plainly see behind me. The element this portal is made of, it's not… we don't have a name for it yet. It took all of any one H.Y.D.R.A. station's power to create just a part of it. All of you—Blink, Rockslide, Five-in-one—you are going to spend the next few days helping my techs with anything they need, whether it's something vital like aiding in calculations or something as simple as getting them a cup of coffee. Is that understood?"

All of the up-and-coming Horsemen nodded, though Blink raised her hand briefly, her tone noticeably more timid and anxious than Rockslide's.

"So, how long will we be working on this? And couldn't I just teleport us all to wherever Apocalypse wants us to go?"

"To answer your first question—seven or eight days," Sinister shrugged. "It's difficult to tell exactly with tech this insanely advanced. But that fits in nicely with Apocalypse's time scale, anyways.

"As for your second—from what Apocalypse has told me, the place we're going is protected by some sort of energy field that prevents ANY method of getting around it, minus the one we're trying. If you attempt to teleport in, phase in, whatever—you'll be killed within seconds, your molecules scattered to the wind. Although I can't be certain because I didn't personally study the previous pyramid domes, I'd imagine it's of a similar kind of energy—hence why the X-Men never really tried to simply teleport inside during their previous attack on Apocalypse, and why, from what I am told, it very nearly killed the X-Man named Shadowcat after she tried to phase a probe through."

"Wait a sec, you mentioned that there's a time scale—so we actually have a date nailed down for revealing ourselves, do we?" Rockslide smiled. "That means we ARE close."

"Indeed," Sinister replied, "and it's meant to create as much of a psychological impact as possible."

"We will reveal ourselves on December thirty-first—eight days from now, going by your Western calendar," Apocalypse said, "Though it will be a limited revelation, at that time. Come January first… well, we will certainly let the populace of this world know that 2004 is when the Age of Apocalypse will truly begin."

* * *

><p>"And you're sure you're going to be okay, Hisako? During the whole gift exchange yesterday, you barely said anything—you just kept in a corner to yourself."<p>

"I… I must admit, I am not used to this 'Christmas' ceremony," Hisako said, her Japanese accent thick and her words stilted as she struggled with the English. "And I still have much difficulty taking in the words as fast as every person talks. But I am learning."

"Well, in that case, have a wonderful couple of weeks back with your parents in Japan," Hank said, putting a large hand on Hisako's small shoulder. "We will see you back here soon after New Years' Day."

"Yes… I will see you then," Hisako said, bowing slightly before turning her attention to Piotr, who was standing behind Hank along with Rogue, Kitty, Christoph, Laura, and Xavier.

"Well, I guess we should be going," Piotr said, giving Rogue and Kitty a bear hug and the others a handshake. "I will drop Hisako off at the airport before I go back to my own home… Speaking of which, thank you again for moving them here, Professor."

Xavier merely nodded and waved it away. "It's the least we could do after Magneto… well, that's probably best left unsaid."

"Yes… yes, it is," Piotr sighed. "Still, I will only be across town, should any of you need me. I will see you all in a little over a week."

The various X-Men waved good-bye to the last two of them to leave the Mansion for the holiday break, and as Hank closed the front doors to the Mansion, the others slowly walked away, each having their own things to finish up before tomorrow, when they would all hold a small celebration amongst themselves for Christmas Eve.

"Hey, Kitty—you okay?" Rogue asked, noticing Kitty's downcast expression as they both began to ascent the foyer stairs to the second floor. "I mean, this is the fourth Christmas now that I've been here, but, well… I know how lonely it can be after almost everyone leaves. Remember that your mom's coming in tomorrow to help keep us all company."

"Trust me Rogue, I'm not going to forget something like that," Kitty said, smiling sadly. "It's just… this is the first Hanukkah I've been through without my dad. I'm just… drifting in between moments of sadness and moments where I'm distracted enough where it slips my mind for a little bit. Plus, y'know… I don't really have a home, anymore."

"Hey, I get it—I don't need to tell you about my own past, by this point," Rogue said, lightly putting a comforting hand on Kitty's shoulder. "But, well… I've come to think of THIS place as my home, now. Winter Break is just a bit of 'alone time' for me. It took a while for me, I imagine it'll take a while for you, too. Though I do confess I'm gonna miss Scott being around this time 'a year… but at least I've set up a time to pay a visit to Gambit in a few days."

"You and him are getting awfully close, aren't you?" Kitty asked.

"Well, it's been so long since I could touch anybody, and now that I can—even for short periods—well, I'm taking advantage of it," Rogue shrugged. "Who knows how long somethin' like this'll last, after all. But beneath all the thievery and his past with the Acolytes, I just… I see something better in him. I'm hoping I can bring more of it to the surface… like the X-Men did for me."

"Just… just be careful, is all I'm saying," Kitty said softly. "I once thought the same thing about Lance, but… well, just be careful."

"I've been played by Gambit a few times, I know what I'm getting into," Rogue said, winking briefly before her expression became more solemn again. "But hey, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where my room is."

"Thanks," Kitty said, quickly wiping away a tear that had snuck its way down her cheek. "No, really, Rogue, I… I really appreciate it. Maybe sometime in the future, though. I'm just… I'm not ready to yet."

Rogue nodded silently in understanding and started to take off in the direction of her own room when Kitty's voice interrupted her motion and she turned back around.

"Say, Rogue… I know this is a bit of change of subject, but what's going on with M… er, Monet? I haven't heard much from her lately."

"Neither have I, interestingly enough," Rogue said, shrugging. "Even in my head, she's all but shut up after Xavier got _this_ close to erasing her from my mind completely after that bit she pulled with that group that had killed a teacher at Bayville High. I think Xavier finally managed to scare some sense into her—I'm pretty sure she's sulking."

"Well, don't let her get TOO detached—according to what Destiny said, we'll need her," Kitty replied.

"How could I forget," Rogue said, rolling her eyes. "Even though M's been quiet for the most part, she still takes every chance to remind me of that whenever I get down on her."

_The squeaky wheel gets the grease, you know._

"Anyways," Rogue said, ignoring M's voice in her head and stretching, "I'm gonna get a little nap in. We were all up way too late last night with the pre-Christmas party and everything."

"Yeah, I'm thinking about hitting the sack myself," Kitty said. "I'll talk to you later, Rogue."

* * *

><p>"Not that I don't appreciate you stopping by on Christmas, Forge, but… what <em>is<em> it?"

"It's a hover-chair," Forge said, getting some help from Beast as he carried it into the Mansion's front room. "I scaled it to fit with your measurements, and you see these circular ports on the bottom? Well, those allow this thing to hover. It uses hydrogen from the air as a power source, and at its regular setting—hovering a few feet above the floor—it's pretty much self-sustaining. It'll run essentially forever—or at least MUCH longer than you'll ever be using it at one time, that's for sure. If you push it to reach higher altitudes, that increases the power it needs, so I don't think you could actively maintain flight for more than ten or fifteen minutes, but I'm still working on that part. Who knows, maybe once I improve the battery on this thing you'll be able to use it for longer."

"A hover-chair?" Xavier said, an eyebrow raised. "This is definitely intriguing. Forge, you really are an absolute genius."

"Eh, it's just part of my power," Forge said, waving the compliment away with his robotic hand. "I just figured, hey, I know when you're are in a battle sometimes you have to rely on Jean or whomever to protect you. I figured this would help your handicap, y'know… not be so much of a handicap. Want to give it a whirl?"

Xavier chuckled. "Well, I suppose it would be rude to turn down a Christmas gift, much less one as large and well-thought-out as this one. Certainly, Forge. Hank, do you mind…?"

"Not at all, Charles," Hank said, putting the yellow-and-dark-blue chair on the ground and helping Xavier out of his wheelchair. The others who were in the foyer at the time—Christoph, as well as Kitty's mother—just stood by the sidelines, outwardly happy but inwardly hoping nothing malfunctioned.

"Here, you lift out this compartment first," Forge said, flipping out a large panel on the top out so that the full seat for Xavier and his legs was accessible. "And then once you're in, you close it back up and fire it up—all the switches to control it are on the little side arms next to where you sit, there. I tried to model them as close as possible to how your regular wheelchair's controls work."

After Hank helped him into the seat and Forge closed it back up, Xavier flipped the "on" switch and the hover-chair slowly came up to about two feet above the ground, a very quiet humming the only aural indication it was even running.

"Its infrared sensors automatically detect changes in elevation," Forge replied as Xavier backed it up towards the foyer's steps, surprised slightly as the hover-chair began to raise itself up without his input.

"This is certainly quite the gift," Xavier replied.

"We have a gift for you as well, but it seems, well… inadequate," Hank said, pulling out a gift card to a local restaurant they knew Forge was fond of.

"Oh, hey, thanks!" Forge said excitedly, swiping the card from Hank's palm excitedly with his normal hand and taking an eager look at it. "Awesome, I'll put this to good use, that's for sure."

"Honestly, Forge, Hank is correct—we do owe you a great deal more than we've given you," Xavier said, pushing the hover-chair back towards the door. "You've been—directly or indirectly—responsible for over half of the Mansion's upgrades over these past few years, after all."

"How're your contracts coming along? I hear pretty much every government agency and corporation from here to Singapore wants you working on projects for them," Hank asked.

"Oh, okay," Forge said. "And don't worry, I'm not letting them push me past any ethical boundaries—I learned my lesson with that whole time machine debacle. Your guys' equipment is always my first priority—but all the contracts ARE keeping me pretty busy. I barely have time even for my parents anymore—though at their age, there's no way I could leave the house now. Even today, I just came by to drop the hover-chair off. I need to get back to my lab."

"You're working on Christmas?" Hank asked, his tone a mixture of disappointment and disapproval."

"I don't mind it, really," Forge said, shrugging. "I've always got ideas running through my head, and I get antsy if I go too long without testing them out. I've got a spot open for New Years', though—I'll be sure to drop by then."

"Sure, then—and thanks again, Forge," Xavier said, he and Beast waving as Forge opened up the door to head out into the cold again.

Forge waved back with his normal hand before turning back, his mechanical legs carrying him effortlessly through the two-foot-deep snow covering the Mansion grounds as he headed towards the gate.

* * *

><p>"And now the <em>poke's<em> on YOU! No, no, that's stupid. That sounds… no, that's not what I'm going for…"

"Wade, what are you doing?"

"Brainstorming great one-liners. While waiting for that inevitable phone call."

"Okay, first off," Domino said, pinching her sinuses, "One-liners… really? And secondly, 'inevitable' phone calls? It's been quite a while now since we've gotten _any _calls for merc work. Do you really think anybody would call during a holiday week? Pretty much everyone's off, now. You should be, too."

"Pfeh," Deadpool said, waving Domino away while he concentrated on the piece of paper in front of him, his pencil worn down to a dull nub. "We can't be off now, Dom! We'll get a call any day, now. Any minute. THAT'S why I'm camping here by the phone—there's no way I'm missing any of THIS action just so I can get in a few extra hours of sleep over the break."

"So you'd rather just lay here in our little dank hideout in the middle of nowhere instead of actually using the money we've earned over the past year to take a vacation to somewhere… warmer. It's two days past Christmas, Wade, and I am getting a serious case of cabin fever. I've waited for as long as I can, but if you aren't going to even _entertain_ the idea of a vacation, then I'm going on one myself before the holidays are completely over."

"Suit yourself," Deadpool said. "But this is the friggin' _finale_, Dom. I ain't missing this for the world."

"A finale? Finale to what? Is one of your beloved corny sitcoms finally ending, Wade?"

"Not _a_ finale, Dom, THE finale. As in, the end. Done. Finito. And EVERYONE knows that in any finale worth its salt, everyone who's ever appeared in the series all comes together for one last big battle to save the world, or the universe, or at least the greater Tri-State Area. So that's why I'm waiting for the phone to ring—I'm waiting for THE call of our career."

"…Wade, you're making even less sense than usual."

"Look, just… trust me on this, okay? If you wanna leave, you go right ahead, but you'll be missing out on the mission of a lifetime."

"…You're serious."

"DEAD serious. If you've never believed me before, Dom, believe me now. You leave now, you're gonna miss everything."

"You really should get a cell phone, Wade…"

"Cell phones? Pfft. I know a fad when I see one. I learned my lesson after I invested in the Virtual Boy."

Domino buried her head in her hands, thinking for a minute before she finally threw her hands up in the air and sighed. "Fine. I'll stay around. But if you're wrong, Wade—you owe me TEN of your guns. MY choice."

"Deal," Wade said without hesitation. "In fact, we can—"

He was interrupted as the phone rang. Domino stared at the phone in disbelief as Deadpool picked it up eagerly.  
>"Yes, yes, hello! This is Deadpool and Domino, mercenaries at your… huh? …Yes, this is Wade Wilson, if you prefer to- Augh. AUGH. No, we do NOT want to switch phone providers! Who gave you this number?!"<p>

Domino sighed and left the room, shaking her head, leaving Deadpool to his "stakeout".

"Look, buddy, if you don't hang up NOW, I…. well, yes I do think their coverage bites, but, out HERE, in the middle of—Really? Data rates THAT high, huh? What's the cost? …Wow, that's pretty—wait, there's a catch, isn't there. Some dumb contract I have to sign or something… No contracts, seriously? Alright, now I'm listening…"

* * *

><p>"Sinister, I must… commend you. Getting the H.Y.D.R.A. scientists to finish this by today… was not an easy task. Yet you have enough control over your organization to have gotten it done."<p>

"Oh, please, DO go on," Sinister smirked, "But after we go through the portal to the other side."

"Yeah, what exactly's on the other side of this?" Blink asked as the H.Y.D.R.A. scientists in the underground facility finished their last test of the portal and began to extract all the monitoring equipment from the device, now fully functional, the shimmering circle in the middle a shade of purplish blue. "I know you've told us 'Utopia', but…"

"The final pyramid," Apocalypse said. "I will need to go through first."

"_You_? Are you certain?" Sinister asked, arching an eyebrow. "I figured you'd want to send in of my expendable soldiers first. Or at least one of us."

"No, the defenses—if they are still activated, which they should be—will destroy any person who arrives inside the structure that is not me. They are keyed to my Mutant energy signature. Wait here until I return—it should only take a few moments to deactivate the security protocols that I need to."

Sinister, Rockslide, Blink, and the Five-in-One were all silent as Apocalypse walked swiftly into the portal, only the slightest ripple in the teleportation field remaining after he had walked all the way through.

"So, any bets on whether the most powerful Mutant in existence just killed himself or not?" Rockslide asked.  
>"You really think Apocalypse would go through were he not certain it would work?" the Five-in-One questioned.<p>

"He's pretty powerful, but he's not an all-knowing god or something," Rockslide replied. "And honestly, it's more my lack of faith in the H.Y.D.R.A scientists—and us—knowing what we were doing than lack of faith in Apocalypse, in this case."

"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence," Sinister mumbled sarcastically.

"I know how you feel about Apocalypse taking over your organization," Rockslide said back quietly, standing right next to Sinister as he was. "And I wouldn't put sabotage past you."

"Well," Sinister said quietly back, crossing his arms, "I may be power-hungry, but even I have learned not to test Apocalypse. He's very nearly the only person on Earth who can kill me."

"Uh-huh," Rockslide said back, clearly unconvinced.

"Honestly, we are looking forward more to what happens after we are shown this 'Utopia'," the Five-in-One said. "It is December thirty-first, after all, which means any moment now we get to go after our… targets. We think we shall have fun with ours."

"Lucky," Rockslide said. "All I get to do is kill a kid, and one that can't even really fight back."

"Shh, he's coming back," Blink said as Apocalypse suddenly returned through the portal, though he didn't take more than a step back inside the hidden H.Y.D.R.A. base they had all been taking refuge in for the past several months.

"…Well?" Sinister asked. "What's going on?"

"The last pyramid is in worse shape that I had expected, but the defenses were still operational," Apocalypse said. "I have booted up the rudimentary systems and told the defense systems to stand down. Come, all of you—Blink, you must learn where this final pyramid is, as now you will be able to teleport into it unharmed."

"Good to know," Blink said, as all of them made their way through the portal one by one.

* * *

><p>Apocalypse's subordinates had expected the place to be large, but they were all astounded just by HOW large it was. The angled ceiling was almost unfathomably high up above where they entered through the pyramid's interior portal, and the walls were lined with large inert Egyptian statue-guardians similar to the kind that the X-Men had encountered underneath the Sphinx. There were also several large glowing light-blue tubes criss-crossing high above them, presumably power conduits to all the different systems inside the pyramid.<p>

"Oh, wow," Blink said in awe. "Now this… THIS is a PYRAMID."

"How come you didn't just use this when you first attempted to turn the world's humans into Mutants?" the Five-in-One asked.

"This structure was not made for that purpose," Apocalypse said. "This was made for a phase… _after _that."

"A phase which we're about to begin," Sinister said, rubbing his hands eagerly as he avidly looked over all the incredibly futuristic tech that lined the enormous room— a room so big, in fact, that their voices and footsteps didn't even set off any echoes.

"Yes, but we still have work to do until it is fully operational," Apocalypse responded before turning to Blink. "Blink, have you fixed this place in your mind yet?"

"I have," Blink said, "But I'm still not sure exactly where 'this place' is."

"I've just pulled up H.Y.D.R.A.'s own GPS system," Sinister said, motioning to an electronic tablet-like device he was holding in his hands. "It's in… wait. No, this can't be right…"

"Huh," Rockslide said, taking a look at Sinister's gadget. "Guess that explains why a pyramid this big was never uncovered by anyone else."

"Enough of this… back-and-forth," Apocalypse said. "It is inconsequential, and we have much to do within the next several hours if we are to be ready by midnight. Blink, you now know where we are. You, as well as Rockslide and Five-in-One—you have your targets, the only three Mutants who could pose a problem to our plans. You know what to do with them. Once you have completed your assignments, I will give you the artifact as a reward for your loyalty. Now. Go."

"As you command," Blink said, bowing slightly. Taking hold of Rockslide, she blinked out with him, a second later re-appearing in the same position minus the rock Mutant she had just carried instantaneously through space. Repeating the process with each of the Five-in-One, she then teleported back once more, smiled, and teleported to her own target's location.

"Now that that is taken care of," Apocalypse said, turning to Sinister, "I have two things I need you to do for me before we get started on reactivating all of this pyramid's systems. First—activate our sleeper agent."

"With pleasure," Sinister smirked, taking a small light blue device out of his pocket that was clearly of similar tech as the rest of Apocalypse's other various devices and pressed a small button. It began to pulse slightly, apparently activated.

"Now. What's the second?"

"Kill every last one of your H.Y.D.R.A. subordinates and the bases that contain them."

* * *

><p>"Look, I understand your point, but you haven't seen what I have, Dad. These Mutants… even the 'good' ones like the X-Men, they've done plenty of bad things and then just covered it up later. I don't suppose I need to remind you of the so-called 'fireworks explosion disaster' shortly after I became principal of Bayville High?" Edward Kelly said from his position around the living room, several of his relatives over for the holiday season and New Years' Eve.<p>

It was still light outside—a few hours too early for the various countdown specials on television to have begun—so to pass the time, the family was simply sitting around, talking.

"Just remember that they're people too, son," Kelly's grandfather said to him. "With all their freaky powers 'n whatnot, they're still people."

"Yes, but Edward's right—he's responsible for a city now, and a city that's had quite a rash of disasters in the last few years," Kelly's grandmother said to her husband. "I admit even being in Bayville for the past week like we have, I've been a bit nervous… what with our son being such a high target and all, I worry that a Mutant might try to take advantage of the recess and… you know…"

"Oh, don't think like that, Gertrude," Kelly's father said back. "He's been around this long and nothing's happened to him."

"That's only because I've been careful not to—" Kelly began, but suddenly stopped, his eyes growing strangely distant.

"Son? Son, are you alright?" Gertrude Kelly asked, suddenly concerned.

Edward Kelly didn't respond, he just stood up and began walking out of the room.

"Uncle Eddy?" said Edward's four-year-old niece, who had been busy playing on the floor with some alphabet blocks. "Uncle Eddy, what's—_oof_!"

Edward Kelly walked right by his niece as if she wasn't even there—given that she was directly between him and the door, he almost kicked her over, but she managed to take a step out of the way at the last second and was merely shoved to the ground.

Edward's niece began to cry softly for a few moments until her mother—Edward's sister—came over to comfort her.

"Edward, what the heck's wrong with—you?" Edward's sister asked, turning up to look at her brother with scorn—only to find that he had already opened the house's front door and walked out into the cold, not even bothering to put on a coat as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"Hey. Kid."<p>

Dorian Leitch gasped, looking up from the handheld video game toy he had been playing with to see an enormous rock-man in his bedroom—even though he was hunched over, the top of his back nearly reached the ceiling, his bulk completely filling up the doorway. Although Dorian had been engrossed in his game, he hadn't heard the slightest noise—not the opening of his mother's apartment door, no footsteps, nothing.

Immediately Dorian dropped his game to the floor, backing up against the side of his bedroom, too scared to do anything except stutter, "W-who are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the rock-man said, a look of regret briefly flashing across his features. "Where's your mom?"

"She's- she's out shop—"

"Bah, so she's not here, huh?" the rock-man grumbled. "I had hoped for a witness; it would help make this less… messy."

"Make this less… wh-what?" Dorian said, fully panicking by now.

"Look, kid, I'm really sorry about this," the rock-man said, rising up to his full height and raising an arm, the hand of which was clenched into a fist. "I've got nothing against you personally, y'know? You actually remind me of me when I was your age… well, minus the green skin, of course. But you picked your side last time—and it was the wrong side. I promise I'll make it quick."

Dorian didn't even have time to stutter a response before Rockslide punched him full-on, the giant rock fist smashing a hole in the wall and window behind the green-skinned Mutant and letting his shattered corpse fall to the sidewalk three stories below, along with the other wall debris.

* * *

><p>Forge nearly hit his head on the bottom of the car as he heard a sudden BLINK! sound come from right next to him, a pink flash of light quickly fading as he noticed the purple pair of feet standing next to his head.<p>

Quickly rolling out from underneath the car he had been working on in the garage, he yanked his goggles off, getting up and changing his mechanical hand into what looked like an electrical gun.

"Well, at least you're not so focused on your bazillion inventions here that you can't sense when someone else has entered the same room as you," Blink smiled, putting her hands on her hips.

"What do you want?!" Forge said, his gun-hand on a hair trigger. "You've got five seconds before I start shooting."

"So, what are you working on here?" Blink asked. "Looks like some sort of futuristic car modification."

"Wrong answer," Forge growled, unleashing an electrical bolt at Blink—which she easily dodged, teleporting to another end of the room.

"You know who I am, Forge. You really think you're gonna hit me?"

"I can try," Forge said, transforming his normal hand into an identical gun and firing it at Blink, who teleported again to another part of the room. Forge and Blink repeated this several more times, until it became clear to Forge that Blink had made her point—he couldn't touch her.

"What. Do you WANT?" Forge said through gritted teeth.

"You, Forge," Blink smiled, teleporting right behind Forge and grasping him on the shoulders. "I want YOU. We're going on a little trip."

Before Forge could try to get her hands off of him, they were both gone in a BLINK!

* * *

><p>"Interesting."<p>

Destiny let out a bitter laugh. "Interesting? Not nearly as interesting as what's likely going to unfold over the next twenty-four hours. But go ahead, humor me. Consider it a last request."

"With your powers, we are sure you anticipated us coming," the Five-in-One said.

"Mmm-hmm."

"And yet you remain here, in your living room, simply sitting on your couch. You have made no attempt to flee."

"Did it ever occur to you that I can at least see far enough into the future to realize it's not _worth it_ to flee? You'd find me no matter where I tried to hide," Destiny said. A sad look coming over her face, she leaned forward on her cane and muttered, "It's not like I have much left to live for, anyways. My daughter is gone, with the enemy, and she wants nothing to do with me… the organization I worked for is in shambles after Mystique's death…"

There was a moment of silence before the Five-in-One continued. "You sent a message to the X-Men."

"An e-mail, yes. Just a few hours ago, when I was certain on the timing. Hopefully their spam filters won't block it—I don't think they will, but little details like that I can sometimes be wrong about. A warning about what you're doing."

"…It is a surprisingly vague warning."

"I wish I could have helped more, but there's so many variables coming into play… too many possible outcomes. Some more important than others, but still."

"So. Humor _us_, then. Do we win or lose this upcoming battle?"

Destiny sighed. "How many times do I have to explain… _I don't know_. My powers don't work like that. I see the various pathways the future can take… and there are simply too many for me to be certain of almost anything."

"But what about the majority of the pathways you see?"

Destiny couldn't see, but she was absolutely certain that the Five-in-One were all smirking currently. "You know the answer to that. Apocalypse and his Horsemen win. Absolutely, completely, crushing everything in your path. There will be no real resistance left. The world will be yours with very close to a hundred percent certainty.

"But that isn't absolute. I… planted a seed in Rogue's head when my powers warned me of a vague danger coming. Told her she and the other Mutant she now carries in her mind were important, something that increases the odds in their favor ever-so-slightly… though they certainly face far steeper odds than ever before. I don't know if it'll make a difference. But it was worth a shot."

"Well, then… we suppose it's time to take you down before you can help then any more."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Destiny sighed, leaning back. "Go ahead. Shut down my mind, kill me. I'm ready."  
>"Now that," the Five-in-One smiled, "<em>That<em> was your _true_ last request. Let us oblige you."

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

"Rendezvous with Destiny, Part II: Free Your Hate"

by Beastbot

* * *

><p><em> "Alright, state your name for our future viewers, if you please."<em>

_ "Santo Vaccarro. My Mutant name is Rockslide, though soon enough—hopefully—I'll be better known as the Horseman, War."_

_ "Even for a Mutant, your appearance is… rather unique, Rockslide. Why don't you tell us a bit about your past?"_

_ "Hrrrmph. Could we skip that part of the interview? I… don't like to talk about it."_

_ "We could, but your story could help many prospective Mutants out there who may develop powers similar to yours."_

_ "…Alright, fine. But I'm just gonna give the cliff notes version."_

_ "That's perfectly alright."_

_ "I grew up in an orphanage outside of Chicago. I was treated like crud, not just by the faculty, but by the students as well. I was beat up pretty regularly—I know, it seems hard to believe looking at me now, but before my Mutant powers manifested I was just a scrawny little kid with glasses. Your typical nerd, I guess, except… except I wouldn't put up with any guff like most nerds. I tried fighting back, when I could—not that it did any good._

_ "Anyway, it turned out that eventually I ticked off some other kid at the orphanage enough—he doesn't deserve any attention whatsoever, so I won't bother mentioning his name, since he'll be dead by the time this video's distributed anyways. But, I didn't know he was a Mutant at the time… and I don't think he did, either. I got him too mad, and he used his power to send a shockwave through the Earth at me, sending me plummeting seven stories to my death._

_ "Or so I thought, at least. Turned out that my Mutant powers had fully manifested, too, but I was trapped as a… a kind of 'presence' without any physical form—a soul, if you want to call it that, I guess. I could see everything that was going on—even my own dead physical body on the ground—but I couldn't talk to anybody._

_ "I had learned already that, during intense concentration, I could will my 'soul' out of my body and 'walk' around. With enough focus, I could manipulate a few minor physical objects like door handles, but that was about it. Anyways, I sort of wandered around for a while as the emergency people showed up, declared me dead on the scene. The Mutant who did it didn't come clean, of course, not that I would've expected him to._

_ "For a while I just followed random people around, eventually attending my own funeral, not sure what to do with myself. I was so desperate to have a body again that after everyone had left, I tried to inhabit the very grave my body had been interred in, and ended up shaping my marble grave and some of the soil around it into a new body—with my old body at the center. I didn't want to give that up, no matter what._

_ "For several years, I just sort of wandered around below ground, watching people. After a while, I got used to simply using the ground as my 'avatar', and I got pretty good at manipulating it—but after a while, I found myself unable to manipulate anything else as a result. Once Mutants were made public, I made my presence known to people, but they always rejected me. It was just like my time at the orphanage all over again. Eventually I sought out the idiot who had killed me, but during the battle one of the X-Men essentially sucker-punched me and made my body explode across the whole area. One of Magneto's Acolytes helped get my essence back together, but my old body that had been at the core of me for so long… it was gone. Atoms scattered to the wind._

_ "I soon joined up with Magneto. Found out he was a fraud, but Blink—er, Famine—offered me another chance, with you guys. I gotta admit, I was pretty skeptical at first that Apocalypse was really going to do what he promised and not just mind-control or betray us at the end. Chalk that up to the rest of my life, I guess. Anyways, we're almost at the final stage now, and he seems to be keeping his word. So it looks like Apocalypse is the real deal, and I'm glad I joined with him."_

_ "Beyond Apocalypse keeping his word to you, what made you decide to ally with him in the first place—and why you continue to serve him faithfully?'  
>"Well, as I said, I was a bit skeptical at first. An alliance of convenience, I guess, as I had nowhere else to go. But to really explain why I've stayed here, I'll need to sidetrack a bit, if you don't mind."<em>

_ "Not at all."_

_ "Once thing I've never gotten is how much people always tout 'love' as the answer to the world's problems. Just 'love one another', they say, and everything will work out eventually. 'Hate', meanwhile, is always denigrated as something self-evidently bad. I mean, don't get me wrong, love has its place, I suppose. But the thing is, nobody seems to be able to agree on what love IS, exactly. There's so many different words for it in different languages, and yet it's still such a difficult concept for people to get right. I mean, geez, look at the divorce rate, look at all the infidelity scandals that come up on a basically daily basis on the news. People can't just settle on a definite definition for love, they can't even figure out when they THEMSELVES are in love. And THIS is what's supposed to save humanity? Feh._

_ "So, you ask someone what love is, you're bound to get a thousand different answers from a thousand different people. Ask them whether they're in love with their boyfriend or girlfriend, and a lotta times they'll either waffle or their answer will change depending upon what day you ask them. But HATE… you ask somebody whether they hate someone else, and they'll know. Provided they're not ashamed about hating somebody—and I've never really understood that line of thinking, myself—they'll come right out and tell you who they hate and why. There's no ambiguity there, no doubt. And hate, I mean… hate gets things DONE. Look at the world today—the people who preach 'love' and all that are losing ground, while those who hate (and who aren't ashamed of it) are devoted to eradicating the reason for that hate, in whatever way they can. Hate motivates you like nothing else. It's certainly what motivated me through all these years to seek revenge on the Mutant that killed me._

_ "And that's one of the things that I've grown to like about Apocalypse—he doesn't hide his hatred beyond some mask. He lets you know full well what's acceptable and what's not. His plan—from what little I've been able to gather—will use hate to, in fact, make the world a more peaceful place! Now how about that, huh? Something that 'love' has never been able to do, and never WILL be able to do."_

_ "So, in closing, what do you have to say to any Mutants out there who may be having doubts about Apocalypse's methods, and the New World Order we'll have established?"_

_ "My advice is that you don't push your hatred deep down inside you, don't let it seethe and bubble inside—don't be afraid to let that hate out, to FREE your hate. Because once you've done that, you'll have something to drive you that nothing else in the world can match, and you'll have a head up on anyone who's still ashamed of their hatred, whether it's for something or someone. Take that hate and use it to your advantage—or you'll be left behind on the road forward, and rightly so, I would say."_

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, I must have not heard you correctly. You want me to do <em>what<em>?!"

"Did you not just call your H.Y.D.R.A. agents 'expendable' a short while ago?" Apocalypse said, crossing his arms.

"Yes, individual agents—but not the _whole organization_! Not my _life's work_! That is completely unacceptable, and I won't allow you to—"

"I AM your 'organization' now, Sinister. Do not forget that it was the advanced coding I leaked into your system that kept outside organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. from finding you after that utter failure of an invasion that you had attempted. You answer to me, and me only. And for me, YOU are expendable if you disobey my orders. I can always find another Death, if you refuse."

"…This is absolutely intolerable! Why would you make me do this, anyway?"

"The more people that know about us, the more likely one of us will betray us and leak something vital. You know this. To make sure that this has the most psychological—and physical—impact possible, we need to make sure NOTHING leaks out beyond a few cryptic details that only the X-Men will get wind of."

"But it's mere _hours_ before we're set to begin! They're not going to make a difference at this juncture! Why didn't you just have me kill them all earlier, if that was the case?"

"It is because I needed them to help me construct the portal. Now that I am here and the base systems of this pyramid are activated, I no longer need them. Now. Quit stalling."

"But—" Sinister began, but stopped himself, though his starkly white face flushed nearly red, he was so angry. "…_Fine_. I assume you have some sort of plan to destroy them all in short order?"  
>"You are correct. When I used the code still embedded within part of me to take over H.Y.D.R.A.'s systems, I enabled an easy 'kill code' that would automatically start the self-destruct sequences on all bases within seconds of each other… in case of any <em>treachery<em> on your part."

"Yes, I get your point, already. So, what do I need to do?"

"Go back through the portal. Get the recordings we have already made to be distributed after the Reaping and bring them back here, and nothing else. Then, when you re-enter the H.Y.D.R.A. base, log on and use the code 'Atlantis' to activate the countdown. Make sure you hurry back through the portal afterwards, as you will have only fifteen seconds before the bases start to self-destruct. Do this, and you will finally earn your place among my Horsemen."

"Wait, hold on a minute… the destruct code is 'Atlantis'? You wouldn't just randomly use that code, that's not you. Which means… this place can't be…"  
>"You will learn what you need to know once you have fully committed to being my Horseman. Now. <em>Go<em>."

Sinister grumbled incoherently to himself, but nevertheless turned around and stomped off in the direction of the portal. No sooner had he disappeared through it than Blink teleported back in, carrying a bewildered Forge with her.

"Where did you—" Forge began, but he eyes suddenly fixed in terror on the figure before him. "No… no, way… it's impossible—_Apocalypse_?!"

Apocalypse smirked as Blink shoved Forge down on the ground. He tried to get up, but felt some sort of force keeping him kneeling—Apocalypse's telekinetic powers, Forge quickly figured.

"Go, Blink," Apocalypse said. "Bring the others back."

"Got it," Blink nodded, and in another second she was gone again.

"What do you want me here for?!" Forge asked. "Whatever it is, you can _forget_ it. Kill me, torture me, whatever. I'll _never_ help a genocidal maniac like you."

"Then let me enlighten you," Apocalypse said, taking a few steps forward and leaning over so that he was mere inches from Forge's sweating face. "You have already helped me, Forge. You have helped me more than Blink did, or any of my Horsemen have up until this point. You and the one named Kurt Wagner."

"Wh-what? What do you mean?"

"You constructed a time machine. You sent Kurt into the past, to try to change things. You failed, utterly. But because you played with the very nature of time and space without truly understanding the consequences—something, I have found out, you have made a habit of—you left a weak spot in the chronal walls in your lab. Once the time arrived where an unusual amount of solar activity weakened those walls still further, it gave me the opportunity to come back.

"The solar flares would have happened regardless, but make no mistake; they would have not been nearly enough by themselves. No, only the two combined allowed me to re-enter this world from a plane of pure time—_you are the one who allowed me to come back_, Forge. Without you, I would not be here."

Apocalypse could tell Forge at first was trying to tune him out, but En Sabah Nur could tell that as his explanation continued, Forge couldn't help but put two and two together in his mind. By the time Apocalypse had finished speaking, Forge's shoulders were sagging, tears beginning to form in his eyes. Forge knew that he was speaking the truth.

"That's… I'm… I'm _responsible_?! Oh, god… what have I done…"

"I wanted to make certain you knew," Apocalypse continued to smirk as he stood back up, and with a gesture of one of his arms, lifted Forge into the air. "To live with all that guilt… it is a fate worse than death, is it not?"

Forge stood silent and broken for a few more moments, before his shoulders finally straightened again and he looked Apocalypse full-on in the eyes, Forge's own expression seething by now.

"So maybe I did," Forge said, "But that stops RIGHT now. I. Will. NOT. Help you."

"You will help me whether you like it or not," Apocalypse said, his attention turning to behind Forge as Blink popped back in with Rockslide and the Five-in-One.

"Are your assignments complete?" Apocalypse asked, striding forwards and leaving Forge suspended in mid-air behind him.

"Both of our targets are killed, Lord Apocalypse," the Five-in-One replied.

"Good. Sinister will be back shortly, having completed an assignment of his own. We need to go to the central control room—that is where I will upgrade all of you into the Horsemen I will require to complete my plan. I will instruct Sinister to join us there once his assignment is complete."

"So why do you need Forge?" Blink asked. "I _really_ would've preferred to have killed him."

"He is too valuable," Apocalypse said, "At least for now. With his powers, he can easily repair this structure's damaged engines."

"I already told you, _forget it_," Forge yelled back.

"How quickly you forget how I controlled my first Horsemen," Apocalypse said, turning and walking down the vast hallway to the right, beckoning for his horsemen to follow as Forge was carried through the air behind him.

"But… but those were destroyed!" Forge asked.

"And didn't you say that you needed subordinates who weren't mind-controlled?" Rockslide asked glumly.

"For my Horsemen, yes. But Forge's assignment… can be just as easily done using the interfaces I had used before."

"No, no, no… please," Forge begged, though of course everyone there knew that his pleas were utterly futile.

As they continued to walk down the long hallway to whatever destination Apocalypse had in mind, Blink edged her way over to Rockslide and asked, "So, why the long face? We'll finally have our upgrades soon, and we completed our assignments. What's up?"

"It's… it's nothing," Rockslide said quietly. "It's just, when I stood there, looking at a dead little kid who had fallen a few stories to his death, all that debris around him, it just…. it reminded me of… someone. It doesn't matter. Forget about it."

* * *

><p>"Knock, knock."<p>

"You're supposed to say that _before_ you come in," Laura grumbled, sitting with her back turned to the doorway and her attention focused downwards to something that Christoph couldn't see.

"What's going on, Laura?" Christoph said, closing the door behind him and moving forward, trying to look her in her face—but she simply moved her body so that her back was still facing Christoph, no matter what direction he looked at her from. "You've been even more reclusive than normal. C'mon, it's New Years' Eve, and we've only got a few hours left! Let's go downstairs and join the others. …Is there something about Christmas or Hanukkah or New Years' that you still don't understand? I'd be happy to explain it to you, all you have to do is just ask."

"Go away, Maverick," Laura said softly but firmly, her head behind her to look at him.

"Laura, I'm serious," Christoph said, coming forward to look over Laura's shoulder. "What's going—"

Christoph stopped as he saw the slash marks across Laura's wrists—rapidly healing and merely scars now, but it was obvious to him what that meant.

"Laura, stop it, do you hear me?!" Christoph said, taking Laura firmly by the shoulders and turning her around in her chair to face him. "Regeneration factor or not, this is NOT. Healthy. It's disturbing. What is _wrong_?"

Laura said nothing in response, though her face wouldn't look up to meet his.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me," Christoph said, lifting Laura's chin up so that her face was looking at his, but she smacked his hand away and let her gaze fall to the floor again.

A few more seconds passed before Christoph said again firmly, "Laura. _Tell me_."

"I still cannot get used to that name. 'Laura'."

"You picked it yourself, if I recall."

"Yes… but only because I was forced to."

"Laura… X-23 is not a name. It is a _designation_, something you give to a… well, quite honestly, it's denigrating even for an _animal_. It's certainly not something to ever be used on a person. That's why even for a codename, we want you to start using that other name you picked out, 'Talon'."

"It doesn't fit. It or Laura. None of them do."

"It will take time. You've been through things… things that make you think differently. Your knowledge is a bit TOO specialized, Laura. You may know a hundred different ways to kill a person, Laura, you may be skilled in every kind of martial arts H.Y.D.R.A. knew about… they taught everything about death, but they never taught you how to _live_. That's why you're here—and that's why I'm here, to help you acclimate… while also trying to get back into a semi-normal existence, myself."

"I'm… not sure I understand."

"Okay, let's see if I can help you out here… see, now you may be blind to this, but a person skilled in communicating with other people can tell right now that you're hiding something. Something else beneath all this."

"…What? Why would you think that?!" Laura said, looking back up, her face flushing slightly red.

"Because, Laura, the issue you just brought up isn't something new. You've been here for half a year now. This… this _cutting_ of yours… no, this is something else. Something you don't even know how to explain to me, or you would have asked, albeit in the overly blunt manner you usually do. And here you've just looked up at me after carrying on this entire conversation while keeping your face pointed towards the ground, and you're _blushing_—that's a pretty bloody obvious sign, Laura."

Laura sighed and sat silent a moment before continuing, her face pointing up towards Maverick but her eyes refusing to meet his gaze. "Maverick, how do… I don't like these… feelings. They make me feel… illogical."

"'These _feelings_?' What are you…. Oh. Ohhh, I see."

"What?"

"You've got a crush, Laura," Christoph smiled. "A crush on Jamie."

"…I haven't harmed him in a long time."

"No, a 'crush', it's a… you have feelings for him. Beyond being a friend."

"I… he's been through a lot of the same things with H.Y.D.R.A. that I have… and though it's changed him some, he still…. He can be humorous. At times."

"So what's the problem?"

Laura was silent for another moment before her eyebrows narrowed. "I hate it. I _hate_ it. I don't want to feel this way. It's distracting."

"Laura, it's perfectly _normal_ for a girl your age," Christoph said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And quite frankly, it's a bit reassuring."

"Reassuring? How?"

"Well, it means H.Y.D.R.A. didn't completely remove that part of your humanity from you. The capacity to… well, to love… still seems to be intact, even if you're not sure what to do with it."

"'Love'? Is that what this is?"  
>"I wouldn't say that—not yet, anyways. But you and Jamie, well… as you've said, you've both been through horrible experiences, thanks to H.Y.D.R.A. It's given you both a bit of a—a bit of a bond. Get to know him better, Laura—and <em>you<em> make the first step, don't want for him to do so. Just a casual conversation sometime after he comes back… see if this bond of yours can blossom into something more. And if it can't, well… there's nothing wrong with having friends, either. Goodness knows you could use a few more."

"Why should I seek out a 'bond' with anyone? I have a healing factor that is even more advanced than Wolverine's, Maverick. I am going to live for a much longer time than Jamie will."

"There, see? Your mind, it always goes straight to death instead of-"

_X-Men, everyone—I need you all to come below-level. Meet me in the laboratory, _now_. It couldn't be more urgent._

"It sounds like Professor X is very tense," Laura said, standing up immediately and making her way towards the door, visibly relieved that the subject was changed for them. "We should get down there."

"Alright," Maverick said, following Laura out of her room, "But don't think that we won't pick up this conversation later, Laura, if I don't see you reaching out to other people more…"

Laura didn't say anything, simply running down the hallway to the nearest elevator as Maverick shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong, Professor?" Kitty's mother asked as she entered the laboratory downstairs, the last one in the Mansion to do so. "You look like you've seen a ghost."<p>

Professor Xavier's face looked utterly terrified, his complexion pale. "I… perhaps I have. Hank just received a phone call from the Bayville Police Department, asking him a few questions…"

"It's Dorian Leitch," Hank said sadly. "He's dead—a big hole was punched through his mother's apartment wall, and the few eyewitnesses said that a giant 'rock monster' pushed him out of the window."

"Oh, dear… that poor boy," Theresa Pryde said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"Rockslide," Rogue said, narrowing her eyes. "I _knew_ he was still out there somewhere."

"But that's not even the worst of it," Xavier said, using his new hover-chair to back out of the way and let people look at his computer screen. "I checked my e-mail after Hank told me about the call, to make sure that we didn't miss anything, and well…. Read this. It's from… it's from Destiny."

* * *

><p><em>Xavier,<em>

_ I apologize for the late timing, but I needed to be sure. I understand you don't trust me, and I didn't want to further erode your trust by giving you a false warning, but… I'm sure now._

_ He's back, and he's not going to let you take any "shortcuts" this time. Gather everyone as soon as you can—soon after midnight, darkness encompasses everything I can see. I don't know how this ends, but the odds are definitely not in your favor._

_ Also, tell Rogue that despite what I've done, I still love her. I hope she can understand that one day._

_ I won't be able to contact you again._

_ -Destiny_

* * *

><p>"'He's' back?" Kitty asked. "Who is—oh, no. NO."<p>

"I knew we weren't gonna be that lucky," Rogue muttered to herself. "And M, quit your cursin' already, I barely hear myself think."

"Apocalypse?" Kitty's mother asked timidly.

"I do not see how she could be referring to anyone else, after the 'shortcuts' comment," Laura said.

"But _how_?!" Christoph asked. "From what you told me, you _and_ S.H.I.E.L.D. were scanning across the board for the Eye of Ages' energy signature after you defeated him… and it never showed up again! Didn't we assume he just got lost somewhere in time?"  
>"I have a theory," Xavier replied, "But now's not the time for theories. Destiny has said we've got until shortly after midnight before 'darkness encompasses everything', which I assume- given her powers- means that that's when a lot of variables enter the equation."<p>

"I.e., when everything really hits the fan," Rogue commented, crossing her arms.

"Exactly. It's… 10:18 right now, which gives us roughly two hours to prepare, at a maximum. We're going to have to move as fast as possible."

"I doubt that Rockslide's murder of Dorian Leitch is a coincidence," Laura said. "More than likely he is now aligned with Apocalypse… I don't think he is the only one, either."

"Laura's likely right, unfortunately," Christoph commented. "And I don't think Apocalypse's attempts at heading off any 'shortcuts' is going to stop with poor Dorian. Any one else that he thinks might put a hitch in his plans, he's going to get rid of them now, before the fireworks really start. From her wording, I would sadly assume that Destiny is dead by now."

"Oh, my gosh…" Kitty said, her eyes widening and her hands clasping themselves over her mouth. "I just realized. Forge said he was going to be here at, like, nine o'clock for the New Years' Eve party, and he's still not here. I figured it was just Forge being his usual absent-minded self, but—"

"Alright, then, there's no time to lose," Xavier interrupted quickly. "Rogue, get a hold of Forge anyway you can—fly over to his residence, if necessary. We need to be sure he's alright. Kitty—call everyone you can think of, get them aware of the situation. Unfortunately, our time window is so short we aren't going to be able to get anyone who lives outside of Bayville on commercial flights back to here. We'll have to resort to pickups by the Blackbird, Velocity, and S.H.I.E.L.D.—if we can contact them, that is."

"Oh, I think we'll have the chance," Kitty's mother said, picking up the beeping communicator from her pocket and attaching it to her ear. "…Yes, Fury is inbound to the Mansion now. ETA fifteen minutes."

"_Now_ what?" Kitty asked despondently.

"Normally I would be happy to speak with Fury, but I've got to get to Dorian's crime scene. I'm going to need more details from the police—anything that can give us a heads up. Not to mention Dorian's mother is… going to need some comfort during this difficult time. So, Beast, Theresa—go see what Nick Fury wants. If Fury needs you back with S.H.I.E.L.D., Theresa, you certainly have my permission to leave. Laura, prep the automated defenses as well as the Velocity and X-Jet—we may be a target within the next few hours. Christoph—I'm going to need a driver."

* * *

><p>"How big is this place? We sure have been walking for a while."<p>

"This place was built to be a self-sustaining home for hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions if you were to fill it to capacity," Apocalypse responded swiftly. "It is supposed to be large."

"Besides, Rockslide, once we know where this central control room is, I can just teleport us back to the spot we entered, if need be," Blink said. "I only need to be given the grand tour once."

Suddenly Apocalypse stopped and held a hand to the side of his head. "Sinister. You are back. Speak."

The others waited for a few moments uneasily as Apocalypse apparently had a conversation with his underling telepathically, then he lowered his hand, the conversation evidently over, and they began walking again.

"So?" Blink asked.

"The job is done—H.Y.D.R.A. has been eliminated," Apocalypse said, the slightest of smirks present in his features. "Sinister will meet us at the central control room shortly. Speaking of which…"

"Oh, _wow_," Rockslide said as they turned the corner. Blink and the Five-in-One were too stunned to bother saying anything.

Even Forge, who had been silently sulking as he was telekinetically carried forward with the rest of them, had to pause up and stare in wonder.

It wasn't the size of the room that was impressive—it was large, but it didn't seem to go on to nearly unfathomable distances like some of the corridors in the room they teleported to earlier—it was the technology in it. Pulsating light blue piping threaded itself throughout the silver-gold walls of the room, far above the piping coming out of the walls and connecting with larger tubes near the ceiling. Dozens of screens lined the walls, all displaying what were presumably various statistics about the pyramid's functions in a language no one but Apocalypse could understand. There was also a human-sized pod in one side of the room, with bright green circuitry lines running across it in contrast to the blue-tinged light everywhere else.

All of the blue piping and circuitry lines led to one place near the center of the room, however, and it quickly drew everyone's eyes there. They all converged on a console front-and-center in the room, with several blank hologram scenes "hovering" above the control panels, emitted from a few small dome structures near the edges of the console. In the console's center was a diamond-shaped alcove, while sitting draped over the chair in front of the console was a remarkably well-preserved corpse—it was far too skinny to be alive, its bones showing plainly underneath the skin, but all of the leathery flesh still seemed intact. What was more remarkable about the corpse, however, were the jewelry and clothing it wore—including what was distinctly a pharaoh's headdress.

"Who is that?" the Five-in-One finally asked.

"That," Apocalypse said, the edges of his lips curling up as his eyebrows narrowed, "is the 'great and powerful' Rama Tut."

* * *

><p>"There he is," one of the policemen said, pointing towards a limousine that had just stopped outside of the "CAUTION: CRIME SCENE" yellow tape encircling the rubble. The crime scene was already well-illuminated with temporary lamps set up everywhere highlighting the various bits of rubble strewn about the sidewalk and street, as well as a blood splatter near the middle of it all. About a half-dozen policemen were on the scene, along with two criminal investigation officials who were carefully examining every last bit of the cordoned-off area.<p>

"Be on your guard," another said, fingering the gun that was currently holstered at his side. "Given everything that's happened lately, I don't trust this guy at all, 'heroic' X-Man or no."

The Mutant with the shady past that the policemen knew as "Maverick" quickly got out, put up his hands to show that he meant no harm, and then went around to the other side of the limo and opened the door to help Professor Xavier out.

"Greetings, officers," Professor X said, putting up a hand in greeting as he finished getting into and powering up the hover-chair that Maverick had gotten out of the back of the limo. "Where is Mrs. Leitch?"

"She's inside, being consoled," said another officer, this one a female. "We've already questioned her as well as the other witnesses, Professor. The stories all corroborate—a powerful rock-man was the one who had punched this poor kid out the side of his mother's apartment. His corpse is still undergoing investigation by the coroner, but it looks like it was the force of the punch that killed the kid, not the fall."

"And the coroner's on the other side of town," stepped in the first officer, his voice on edge. "So even if you wipe our minds, you won't stop word of this crime from spreading."

"I want to get the bottom of this as much as all of you do," Professor Xavier replied. "In fact, I believe I have some leads that you may want to—"

"Hold on a minute—stop right there," said the female officer, taking her gun out of her holster but not pointing it at Xavier or Maverick—yet. "_We're_ looking into this, and _we'll_ solve it."

"I'm—I'm not doubting it," Xavier said, putting his hands up once again to show that he came in peace. "But I can help—"

"One of your own X-Men is made of rock, correct?" the female officer interrupted again."

"Rock? Who—oh, no, no, you're thinking of Piotr. Colossus. He can convert his skin into an organic steel, but he's not made of it."

"How tall is he?" the female officer inquired.

"About six foot eight," Xavier replied. "He's a large man, but not nearly as large as the culprit who did this."

The female officer looked over to one of the crime investigators, who looked back and nodded.

"Alright, looks like that's below the height range the investigators are looking for," the female said. "You're clear to come through the yellow tape—but be careful."

"Of course," Xavier said, Maverick going first and opening up the tape for him to hover through. "You'll pardon me for asking—I understand that things have been tense ever since the… odd misunderstanding involving the shooting at Bayville High, but this seems a little extreme. The amount of distrust displayed towards us seems… excessive. We've helped out the law enforcement before—what's going on?"

"Well, let's see," said another officer as he came over, his badge identifying him as the police chief. "One of your X-Men is STILL being monitored closely after purportedly helping out in the shooting, while the alleged killer of a teacher—again, a former student of yours—left for the vast network of New York City's sewers before we could even ask him questions. Meanwhile, THIS goes on, and we just got a call a few minutes ago that now Mayor Kelly is missing. We're on a VERY high alert, here."

"Mayor Kelly is—" Maverick began. "What? When? _How_?"

"He was just talking with his family an hour or two ago, and then he just suddenly got up and left, knocking over his little niece in the process," the police chief replied, shaking his head. "Didn't say anything, just left in the cold without even taking a coat, as his family's told us. The family went out after he didn't come back in a minute, but they couldn't find him, so they called us. Said his eyes looked distant—like he was being _mind-controlled_. Ain't that _your_ specialty, Professor?"

"Y-yes, it is," Xavier said, "but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with it."

"Uh-huh," the chief said unconvincingly, crossing his arms.

"This HAS to somehow tie into Apocalypse's plan," Maverick murmured to Xavier. "No way this is a coincidence."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" the chief said, apparently picking up on Maverick's comments. "You better speak up in my presence, buddy. You both are lookin' pretty bad already."

"It's what we came to warn you about," Xavier said. "It appears… it looks like Apocalypse is back. And he's making his move shortly after midnight tonight."

"Apocalypse?! I thought he was gone."

"Yeah, so did we," Maverick cut in.

"So what did you want to tell us, then?"

"I've gotten word from a fellow Mutant—unfortunately, she is likely dead now—but she has the power to predict the near future with a high probability of accuracy. She sent me one last e-mail, saying that something big is going to go down tonight, 'shortly after' midnight. Once the clock ticks over into the new year."

"…Uh-huh. So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Call your superiors—anyone you can who will believe you. Please—we need to at least be on our guard. I'm not sure where exactly Apocalypse will enact his plan, but he's bound to take advantage of all the various large parties taking place around the world right now."

"So, what, you want me to tell everyone to just cancel their New Years' Eve plans based on what some fortune-teller you know said? That's hardly credible evidence, Professor."

"I'm not saying cancel them—but keep the satellites active, add more security, _anything you can_."

"You DO realize it's, like, an hour before midnight, right? How quick do you expect me to act?"

"As quickly as you can," Xavier said. "Just as we're doing. Check our phone records if you don't believe us—we're currently making calls to all of the X-Men that have gone home to be with their families for the holiday break, trying to get them alert and ready as soon as possible for pick-up. _Please_."

The police chief looked back and forth between Xavier and Christoph for a few moments, then sighed. "Alright, I'll call in—"

He was interrupted as his cell phone rang.

"Hang on a minute," the chief said, flipping open his phone and answering it. "Hello? Oh my god… Mayor Kelly?! Where are you?"

Xavier and Christoph both perked up at the mention of the missing mayor's name and looked at the police chief anxiously.

"…Yes, the Mutants are here—well, a few of them are. So where are-? Oh. Oh, I see," the police chief responded, narrowing his eyes at Xavier and Maverick as the conversation continued. "So you expected this, huh? Well, I'm going to need more specific charges, but I can for the night. Will you be back soon? Your family's worried and… no, no I understand. Goodbye, Mayor."

"Well? What did he say?" Christoph said as the chief motioned for two of his fellow officers to come forward.

"He said that he had gotten wind of a Mutant plot to assassinate him," the police chief answered as the two officers took out their handcuffs. "That's why he had left in such a hurry—he's at an undisclosed location now."

"Who does he think is plotting to assassinate him?" Christoph asked. "Apocalypse?"

"Boy, the gall you have, huh?" the chief said as his two officers flanking him took out their handguns and pointed them at Xavier and Maverick, slowly moving around to their backsides and telling the X-Men to put their hands behind their backs. "Kelly told us it was you all. The X-Men. Said you were planning on using a fake 'Apocalypse' bogeyman to have us chasing after the wrong target, leaving Kelly wide open."

"What?! Why would he say that?" Maverick asked as the handcuffs clicked into place on his and Xavier's wrists.

"Don't know," the police chief shrugged. "I'm guessing he'll tell us the full story when he's sure you're all secure. So, until tomorrow morning when he's sure he's safe, we're all supposed to make sure all of the X-Men in Bayville stay on the Mansion grounds, and to keep you under heavy surveillance. He's told us once he gathers the evidence, he's gonna take your Mutant butts to court, have you put away where you liars belong."

"But that's—"

"THERE you are!" cried a voice from behind the police chief. Looking in the direction of the voice, all of them saw Mrs. Leitch standing outside the apartment building, apparently having broken through the half-hearted attempt by the officers to hold her back once she had heard that the X-Men were here.

"Ah, Mrs. Leitch—" Xavier began, but he was interrupted as the woman strode forward with a purpose, her hands balling into fists.

"This is all YOUR FAULT!" Mrs. Leitch said, her tone furious but punctuated by an almost uncontrollable sobbing. "What did I say, the _first time_ Dorian was outted as a Mutant? I said he didn't even have a hope for a normal life! But then when that 'Apocalypse' person attacked, I figured it was… it was our moral duty to help—and you assured me that he would be safe! Even told me he should enroll at that school of yours! And now… now he's _dead_! My little boy is dead!"

"Mrs. Leitch, I can't tell you how sorry I am for—"

"Shaddup," the police chief said. "It's even worse than that, Mrs. Leitch. Apparently the X-Men were willing to perpetuate a false 'Apocalypse' uprising to divert away our resources from protecting the Mayor."

Mrs. Leitch just stood there, stunned for a moment, before she said disbelievingly, "So… the person who killed my son…"

"We don't have the proof yet, Mrs. Leitch, but it quite possibly could have been one of the X-Men—we're thinking the one named Colossus—who killed your boy. To provide a cover for their 'Apocalypse' story."

"That's not true—" Xavier insisted, but was interrupted as Dorian's mother suddenly stepped forward and slapped him, hard, across the face.

"How… how DARE you!" Mrs. Leitch said, emotionally breaking down. "Do whatever you have to, Chief—I never want to see these 'X-Men' walking around free ever again. EVER!"

"We're working on it right now, ma'am," the chief said. Turning back to the two officers who had cuffed Xavier and Maverick, he said, "Take a couple of the other officers and escort these two slime balls back to the Mansion. I'll tell every spare officer we have on the force to surround that place like it's Fort Knox, until Kelly comes back with the evidence tomorrow."

Christoph attempted to protest and resist slightly as the police led them to their car and Mrs. Leitch was escorted back to her apartment sobbing uncontrollably, but Xavier quickly contracted him via telepathy.

_You're only going to incriminate us further, Christoph. Not now._

_ But they can't just—_

_ It won't get to the point where they'll actually arrest all of us. You know that. Given the 'faraway' look Kelly's family apparently described, I bet he IS being controlled—just as Apocalypse made me one of his Horsemen against my will. This all is just a delaying tactic, meant to cripple our efforts to get back at him as long as possible._

_ We can't let him win, Xavier!_

_ We won't Christoph, we won't… but unfortunately we can't resist now, as we'll just end up starting a fight with people we're going to need desperately in another hour or so. Apocalypse has won this round—but I'll do all I can to make sure we'll win the war._

* * *

><p>"…So you've been told Apocalypse is back, huh? Well, that certainly makes things a heck of a lot more complicated… though it explains all the explosions."<p>

"Explosions?" Theresa Pryde responded, nearly yelling to be heard over the helijet on the Mansion grounds behind Fury, its pilot having yet to fully deactivate the S.H.I.E.L.D. transport's rotors.

"It's why I came," Nick Fury said, taking the ever-present toothpick out of his mouth. "It's a bit of a top secret thing right now, hence why I couldn't just communicate with all of you over the radio—but our satellites have picked up several huge explosions occurring almost simultaneously at several points across northern Canada, as well as a few in Siberia and Greenland. At first we weren't certain what was up, but then we made the connection—a few of the explosion sites were suspected H.Y.D.R.A. bases. We figure the rest of them were, too."

"H.Y.D.R.A. bases… so I assume no one outside of the organization was hurt, then?" Beast asked.

"We're guessing not, but it literally happened about fifteen minutes ago. Still a bit early to be certain. That said, they were all out in the middle of nowhere by necessity, so I doubt many other people even heard the explosions going off."

"Why would H.Y.D.R.A. detonate all of their own bases?" Theresa queried. "It has to be sabotage."

"Not necessarily," Beast responded, his eyes going wide as he came to a realization. "Apocalypse… this is his endgame. THAT was where he's been hiding this whole time—with H.Y.D.R.A. Maverick and Laura have both been on the lookout for H.Y.D.R.A. over the past several months—Maverick in particular is surprised that they haven't attacked us again, as not doing so is against their modus operandi. If Apocalypse had—somehow—taken over their organization, now that his plan's coming to fruition he very well could have just done away with them."

"He certainly has the _power_ to do something like that," Fury said, shaking his head. "Well, I guess we'll put X-Force and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. on high alert, then. I mostly just came here to make sure none of you were behind it, but-"

"Hold on," Beast interrupted, pointing up to the night sky as a distant figure came zooming in towards their position, lit softly by the background lights of downtown Bayville. "It looks like Rogue's back… let's see what she found out."

Kitty's mother couldn't help but wince as Rogue streaked down, landing a couple of dozen feet away with them with a loud earth-shaking BOOM as she hit the ground, a small dirt crater now surrounding the impact site as the snow kicked up from around her dispersed.

"Forge is dead," Rogue said in M's voice, striding forward.

"Oh, no…" Beast said.

Rogue shook her head for a minute, then sighed, continuing in her own voice, "What Monet _meant_ to say is that he's missing. We don't know if he's dead yet."

"But he's missing?" Nick Fury asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yup. Went to his house, he wasn't there—his parents thought he was over here. They said he was working in the garage earlier, so we checked there—there were a few scorch marks on the walls, signs of a quick battle. No signs of blood, thank goodness, but his parents tried calling him—no answer. He might be dead, but he also might have been kidnapped for some reason. I think we might have a bigger problem coming out way, though."

"Bigger than a friend possibly being dead?" Theresa Pryde asked fearfully.

"We've got just about every police car in the county coming our way," Rogue said, pointing her thumb in the direction of the Mansion gate. "They'll be here within a few minutes, and the prof's limo is right at the front of 'em."

"Xavier? Then why haven't we received some sort of message from him?" Theresa asked, tapping the side of her head.

"If the police are here aggressively and not defensively, I think it's likely that they forbade him to use his powers without pretty steep consequences," Nick Fury interjected. When the others looked at him oddly, he shrugged and continued, "I realize the whole idea is pretty moronic, but disobeying their orders could lead to something even worse. Regardless, if the police are here, then I've got to book."

"What?! Why now?" Beast asked as Fury gave his helijet pilot the signal for them to get ready to depart. "You could back us up."

"Nuh-uh, that's not part of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jurisdiction," Fury shook his head. "We deal with international threats, but when it comes to operations like this—we can't interfere, at least not officially. It's the same reason I couldn't simply demand for Area 51 to release all of you after that whole Sentinel disaster. We're a bit of a 'black ops' operation in most cases, and we intend to stay that way. Don't worry though, we'll stay in close touch. Things are bound to go down soon. Pryde, we're definitely going to need all hands on deck. You'll be following me back in this helijet."

"Hold on—let me just say goodbye to my daughter first," Theresa said, beginning to turn around—but Fury's firm hand on her shoulder caused her to turn back.

"Pryde- Theresa—you know as well as I do that we're in a big time crunch already. We've got to get this info dispersed across the S.H.I.E.L.D. network as quickly as possible. No time for goodbyes now—maybe I can set up an encrypted video link on the way back to the helicarrier."

Theresa seemed about to protest, but reluctantly nodded. "I… guess you have a point. I just hope this isn't the last time I—"

"Don't think that way," Beast said. "We've beaten Apocalypse before, and we'll do it again."

"I sure hope you're right," Rogue said as they all saw the first police cars pull up to the Mansion gate, right as Fury and Kitty's mother entered the helijet and began to take off. "'Cause right now, it looks like we're just waitin' and seein'. And I ain't a patient person, especially when it comes to stuff like this."

* * *

><p>"Rama Tut?" Rockslide asked as Apocalypse examined the corpse sitting in what was apparently the room's command chair. "Is that name supposed to mean something to me?"<br>"I don't suspect you've heard of him," Apocalypse said as he continued to closely inspect the dead body, "But he was the pharaoh of Egypt until I took the position from him. He was the one who was responsible for all of this… technology."

"Wasn't that over five thousand years ago?" the Five-in-One asked. "How is his body still in this condition? He should be dust by now."

"Rama Tut had a few… enhancements," Apocalypse said, standing up and walking back over to them, a disappointed frown on his face. "Unfortunately, they are no longer in working condition. He likely took great pains to get to this spot after I had taken power—he pushed his cybernetic enhancements to their limits to simply get here, and it looks like he shorted them out trying to get this place operational again. As for why he has not decayed that much, well… this place is constantly screened by technology that eliminates any microorganisms that are not completely beneficial to us."

"That's _amazing_," Forge said despite himself, immediately shutting up once everyone turned back to look at him.

"Ah, yes," Apocalypse said, beckoning with his hands and forcing Forge closer to him with his telekinesis. "I had almost forgotten about you. Into the pod."

"The pod?! Wait, no—" Forge began, but he was quickly telekinetically forced into the small open pod lined with green circuitry detailing on one side of the room, which shut behind him, cutting off his inquiry. The others could still see Forge as began pounding on the transparent front, but they couldn't hear anything coming out of his mouth.

"I guess I'll continue to ask the obvious questions, then," Rockslide asked, all of them turning away from Forge once again. "So was Rama Tut some sort of super-genius like Forge there or something? How did he invent all this stuff in the first place—much less with the tech they had five thousand years ago?"

"Rama Tut was hardly a genius in anything other than thievery," Apocalypse smirked, "And no, he did not invent this. Not any of it. Regardless, we are wasting time with these endless explanations—there is work to be done. Blink, find Sinister. I grow tired of waiting for him."

Blink bowed slightly and teleported out in a flash of light.

"So we're just gonna go along with this plan without knowing something as vital as how all of this stuff GOT here?" Rockslide said impatiently.

"You will know soon enough," Apocalypse said. "The most important part now is that you are familiar with our plan."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Rockslide said. "It's hardly something I'd need to study."

"Good," Apocalypse said as Blink flashed back into the room with Sinister. "Because the time is finally upon us."

"I hope you're happy," Sinister said, shrugging off Blink's hand and striding forward. "So many decades of progress, eliminated like that… This had better be worth it."

"It will be," Apocalypse smirked. "Now… Blink, Sinister… the time has come to surrender your shards."

Apocalypse lifted up his hand and made a gesture with it, and soon enough the diamond-shaped shards that he had planted in their heads floated out of the foreheads of both Blink, Sinister, and himself. Just like when they had gone in, there was no pain, no discomfort as the pieces came out—it was as if they had simply "phased" out of their host's skulls.

Slowly but surely, the three diamond-shaped shards hovered towards each other, converging in the center of the rough circle that Apocalypse and his various Horsemen had formed in the middle of the room. There was a heavy, expectant silence in the room, everyone except Apocalypse watching the mysterious fragments as they combined in the center of the circle, forming a larger gray diamond lined with the same familiar pulsing blue lines.

Apocalypse then turned towards the command console, the gray diamond following his gestures and eventually settling down into the alcove near the center of the console, a slot perfectly sized for it.

Almost as soon as it touched down into the receptacle, the command console began to hum louder and louder, and the gray diamond slowly began to glow, the blue lines pulsing through it.

Everyone except Apocalypse nearly stumbled as the whole room—indeed, the whole pyramid, by the sounds of it—shook for a moment, as if straining against something. Then, as soon as it had begun, it all suddenly stopped, though the diamond was now glowing white-hot and the blue lines were pulsing so quickly that the eye couldn't even follow them anymore.

"Was that it?" Sinister asked. "That was a bit… anti-climactic."

"That was needed to re-energize the entire base," Apocalypse said, looking at the readouts that were now coming out from one of the formerly blank screens on the wall, language scrolling by in a language that no one else understood. "It also drew from a special energy reserve dedicated specifically for this function… it would appear that the base is now largely re-energized, but a few vital conduits are malfunctioning."

"Well, so much for your 'grand plan'," Sinister said, crossing his arms.

"Hardly," Apocalypse said, and gestured to the green-lined pod that he had pushed Forge into, "I had anticipated this. Forge—your new master calls."

Steam hissed out of the pod, and as it opened, Forge emerged—only his entire body was now lined with familiar black-and-light-green lines—the thickest over Forge's eyes, which now glowed green.

"Now, Forge—the conduits in corridors 157, 159, and 978 need to be repaired," Apocalypse commanded. "I trust your powers will allow you to figure out how to do this."

Forge silently nodded and walked out of the room, his gaze utterly blank.

"So, is our whole plan delayed?" the Five-in-One asked worriedly.

"No," Apocalypse said. "Whether this base comes online before or after we reveal ourselves is of little consequence—though the sooner Forge gets those conduits repaired, the better. The time has come for me to officially make you my Horsemen. Rise, all of you, and prepare to receive your reward."

The few of them that were still on the floor after the minor earthquake a few moments ago got on their feet.

Apocalypse gestured with his hand again towards the glowing white diamond, and it slowly came out of its alcove, levitating again to the center of the circle the Horsemen had created. With a crushing motion of his hand, the diamond split into five identical, smaller diamonds, and began to levitate towards Apocalypse and his Horsemen.

"Five-in-One," Apocalypse said. "Which one of you will receive the gift?"

"Wait, can't it just split into more segments?" Celeste asked.

"No, not without diminishing its power. Since your minds are all linked, however, you all will receive the gift."

The girls looked at each other for a moment, then they all looked back to Apocalypse again.

"Sophie," they all said. "She is the oldest of us… by a few minutes."

"So be it," Apocalypse said, and the five diamonds hovered towards the foreheads of Sophie and the rest of the Horsemen. With a single, final gesture, the diamonds "leapt" the last few feet into their new host's heads, again leaving no trace of any entry wound.

Apocalypse grunted slightly, but the rest who had received the diamonds fell to their knees, crying out in pain, white light shining forth from their eyes as a few parts of their bodies began to mutate in various ways. It took a few moments, but then the rest of the Five-in-One fell to the floor as well, sharing in their eldest sister's pain and transformation.

After about ten seconds, they all gasped, the light fading from their eyes. As they all got up, however, they noticed that they all looked a little different—though still easily recognizable as themselves.

Blink seemed slightly taller, but was more bent over, and far slimmer to the point where she looked absolutely emaciated, her ribcage easily visible through her green uniform. Her appendages were stick-thin, but longer proportionally, with her fingers extremely elongated—now several inches long- and ending in sharp points. Her eyes also shone a bright purple.

"The knowledge, the light… it's all back," Blink laughed, revealing a mouth of elongated and sharpened teeth that looked positively demonic. "All of it, and… and MORE. This is… this is _amazing_."

Rockslide's rock was now tinted red, his face having several blood-red spikes poking out of the sides, with most of them framing his forehead. The effect made it look like he was wearing a decorative sort of mask. His eyes also now shone a bright red.

"Oh, man… Man, this… this POWER. And… and I get it. I get everything now," Rockslide chuckled. "Sorry I doubted you, Blink… or, should I say, _Famine_."

Although Sinister's eyes were now completely black, he didn't look any different physically. However, black wisps of smoke seemed to drift around him, and if one looked directly at him, his image seemed to constantly shift slightly, as if he were a mirage in the distance on a hot day.

"Interesting," Sinister cooed, and with a flick of his wrist, a pinkish-purple energy scythe appeared in his right hand. "Very, _very_ interesting. Alright, Apocalypse, I take all my comments back—getting rid of H.Y.D.R.A. was so, so VERY much worth this."

The Five-in-One looked up, their eyes—though normal-sized—were all multi-faceted and yellow-black like an insect's. Their fingers also seemed more claw-like, though the most disturbing feature of their new look were the large black mandibles that stuck out of the sides of their mouths, the sharp ends curving inwards and perpendicular to their normal teeth.

"We… we are _one_!" the Five-in-One cried, a slight clicking noise sounding as their mandibles opened and closed. "Our thoughts are no longer our own, at all… we are simply one person divided among five avatars. We… _I_ am now truly Pestilence, and I am at your service…Lord Apocalypse."

"Excellent," Apocalypse said, his own appearance unchanged. "Now that you have received your gift, I trust there are no more questions you need to ask?"

All of the Horsemen shook their heads.

"Nope," Rockslide grinned. "The Font showed us everything."

"Good, then," Apocalypse said. "It's time for the Reaping to commence. You all know the plan—let us execute it. Famine, teleport the others to their locations."

"With pleasure," Famine grinned, then flung seven daggers of light at the other Horsemen, all of them disappearing in a flash as soon as the daggers struck them.

"Now, Famine," Apocalypse said, walking up to her until they were mere inches apart, "As you know, I have given you the responsibility for making our presence known to the world. No one will act until you do, and because of this your commencement of the Reaping must be the most important. I… am not a fan of theatrics, but make sure that your attack is as much psychological as it is physical. We must let the world know why this is happening before the destruction truly begins."

"Don't worry," Famine smirked. "I've been preparing for this day for a long time. I've got a great quote picked out, too. I'll pick up our little puppet Kelly and then I'll wait for the appropriate time. Good idea, by the way, implanting a bit of that control tech we have on Stryker's cell phone that he handed to Kelly—and which, of course, then transferred to Kelly himself. I honestly didn't think it would come in handy that much, but I'm glad I was proven wrong."

"Good," Apocalypse nodded, and a second later Famine flashed away in her own blink of light.

Satisfied, Apocalypse wordlessly went back to the control console, unceremoniously swept aside Rama Tut's remains, sat in the chair, and began inputting various commands.

* * *

><p>"Here we are, two minutes to go 'till midnight…"<p>

Kitty was paying attention to the television coverage of the Times Square New Years' celebration event on the television in the meeting room, but most of the others in the meeting room merely glanced at the set now and then. They were distracted, to say the least—as was Kitty, but she was trying to use the Times Square celebration to get her mind off of the current situation, for however long it lasted.

"How long will it take the others to get here?" Piotr asked. He had arrived a short while ago, having picked up Danielle, and Gambit had arrived too- but Ororo and Angel were currently en route from New York City, scheduled to be there within the next ten minutes.

"Anyone who is farther away than the Big Apple's going to take quite a while," Hank said. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has said they're looking into ways to get transportation, but as you all know well, we're scattered all over the globe… Hisako in particular will be a real problem to get here. For certain, we'll know exactly what Apocalypse is up to by the time they're able to get here. As for Spyke and the Morlocks, Spyke didn't answer Kitty's call, and hasn't responded back to the message she left—they've been particularly secretive since they left for the NYC sewers, afraid of getting caught again. After all, having a exponentially larger area to seek safe haven in was the main reason they moved there."

"Where are Maverick and X-23?" Danielle asked, for the first time noticing that two of the X-Men who were supposed to be staying in the Mansion weren't in the room.

"They're downstairs, putting the finishing touches on the Blackboard and Velocity," Xavier said. "Once we get wind of what exactly Apocalypse is planning, we'll need to move. Fast."

"One minute to go…" Kitty interjected.

"But we ain't gonna be able to move, even when we want to," Rogue said, frustrated. "We've got police cars surrounding the whole Mansion—we so much as leave the grounds, they'll start shooting. You said that Mayor Kelly's apparently being mind-controlled by Apocalypse, Professor—or, at least, Apocalypse's weird tech. Why? Yeah, he apparently used Kelly to keep us confined here, but whenever Apocalypse commences the attack, the police forces will definitely wake up and let us out of here to contain it. It'll just delay our response by a little bit, given how scattered we already are right now. Why go through all this trouble of mind-controlling Kelly just to buy himself an extra couple minutes?"

"I don't know," Xavier said, steepling his hands, "and that's what's gotten me even more worried. Apocalypse always has a plan, as we've learned. To not know why he's doing what he's doing… that portends bad news."

"Ten seconds… here we go," Kitty said, as everyone turned to look at the television as the vocal countdown begin at Times Square.

Any other year they would all be counting down, with their party favors in one hand and their friends in the other, just like the people on television—but as the final seconds of 2003 ticked away, the lump in everyone's throat simply grew larger, and they all watched the countdown in silence.

* * *

><p>"FIVE! ...FOUR!"<p>

All of the crowds in Times Square were ecstatic, as one might expect, the roar of the crowd almost deafening as the seconds ticked closer to midnight.

"THREE! …TWO!"

Everyone's attention turned from the large countdown screen to the large Times Square ball of electronic light that had almost touched the bottom of the pole during its descent.

"ONE! …_ZERO_!"

A deafening cry started to go up—until most of the crowd there realized that, at the exact moment that the Times Square ball hit the bottom and the countdown ended, the ball had simply vanished into thin air, in a bright pink blink of light.

A few of the people who weren't paying as close attention started to yell "HAPPY NEW—", but that was as far as any of them got. The large display screens all started to display the same message for a second—until, suddenly, the power flickered out all over New York City.

There were a few cries of confusion or anger as to what incompetence caused this, but everyone suddenly became silent as a female voice cried out in the dark, over what sounded like a loudspeaker.

"_As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man…_"

The others looked around—a few pinpointing that the voice seemed to be coming from near the top of a building to the north of One Times Square, where the Times Square ball had been.

There were faint pink flashes of light, and then another, identical voice, coming from somewhere else around the area:

"_There are only four things certain since Social Progress began…_"

The crowd by now was getting uneasy, and the unrest got louder and louder as the pink flashes continued, each line said from a different point along the periphery of Times Square, making it seem audibly like the crowd was completely surrounded.

"_That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire…  
>And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire…<em>

_And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins…_

_When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins…  
>As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn…<em>"

Screams and gasps emitted from the audience as the power suddenly came back on again, spotlights from all over Times Square focused on a purple-skinned, emaciated, almost demonic-looking Mutant standing where the globe had been, .

With a laugh, the Mutant finished, "_The Horsemen of the Apocalypse with terror and slaughter return!_"

It was then that many individuals near the center of crowd noticed that their area was suddenly lit up quite brightly.

Only a few were even given the chance to see it as the giant ball crashed down into the center of the crowd, screams of pain and horror erupting amongst the audience as it exploded in a shower of metal, glass, and electricity.

The crowd was now fully in panic mode and began to trample each other, screaming for their lives as they pushed past the barricades in place on the streets, desperate for a way out.

* * *

><p>Famine noticed that the people making their exit the quickest were those pushing along the wider street, directly away from the One Times Square building.<p>

_Can't have that, can we?_

Teleporting so that she was a couple dozen feet in front of where the crowd was running, Famine put up her long-clawed hand in a "stop"—and most of the crowd quickly did, backing up and starting to go the opposite direction. Several individuals—almost of them policemen—stepped forward, however, brandishing their guns.

Famine raised an amused eyebrow as the brave individuals leveled their armaments at her.

"You think you're going to turn somethin' this big into a slaughter-fest, Freak?!" one of the policemen yelled. "The N.Y.P.D. have somethin' to say to that!"

Almost as one, the various officers opened fire at Famine.

Famine was delighted at the results. Granted, she had been expecting this, but it was nice to confirm that her "upgrades" were working magnificently well. For a small fraction of a second, a pink energy sphere surrounded her, and she redirected all the bullets that hit the teleportation field with barely a thought—with very quick flashes of pink light, the bullets disappeared as soon as they hit the field, and reappeared—now on a straight trajectory with the various officers' foreheads.

To the normal eye, however, it looked simply like the police officers had somehow all shot each other and crumpled to the ground.

The panic among the crowd erupted even further, as those who had been heading down the street had now completely reversed their direction full-stop, trampling the people behind them in their desperation to get away from this obscenely powerful Mutant.

"They're not going anywhere," Famine said to herself, and looked around the crowd, quickly spotting a lone cameraman who was still bravely manning his post, the lens directed at her.

"Time to take a trip," Famine continued, and flung a pink energy dagger at the cameraman and his equipment, then teleported herself—all of them ending up back on top of the building where the New Years' ball had been in another flash of light.

"What the—oh, n-no," the bearded cameraman stuttered, and held up his hands. "Pl-please don't kill me... I have a wife, three kids…"

"Perhaps… perhaps I WILL let you live," Famine smiled, which caused the cameraman to shiver. "In exchange for doing something for me. I teleported your equipment, everything else up here, so you should still be transmitting—you keep the camera focused on me and what I do, and nothing else, you got it? Do that, and I'll set you free."

"Y-yes, ma'am…" the cameraman gulped, and centered the camera on Famine's face.

"Good. Hello, world," Famine sneered. "Happy New Year—and what a happy year it will be, _for Mutants_. Apocalypse is back, and he's going to be doing things that make his previous attempt look positively amateur by comparison. I am Famine, one of his four horsemen— there are three others who will make their appearance around the world in short order.

"By now, I'm certain that some of your government officials are wondering what we want, how to placate us to stop the slaughter. Well, I'm sorry to say that that's not going to happen, as what we want IS slaughter. Among us, we're going to kill EVERY human man, woman, and child on this planet. There are no terms of surrender, no demands we want met. There is no peace. You. Will. All. _Die_.

"Apocalypse attempted to create a nice middle ground last year by turning the entire world into Mutants. That failed, thanks to those betrayers to their own kind, the X-Men. Granted, many of the population would have died, but many would have been transformed into Mutants. So compared to a planet full of Mutants, we're now forced to simply kill everyone who isn't—as well as those betrayer Mutants who helped stop Apocalypse's plan of ascension last time.

"So, if you are a Mutant that was not involved in stopping Apocalypse, you have nothing to fear. Simply stay out of the way as we do our job—we have orders not to kill ANY Mutant that does not actively resist us (and believe me, we can all tell who is a Mutant and who is not, even the "normal"-looking ones). But if you're human, well… let's see what one of your self-proclaimed anti-Mutant leaders thinks, hrrm?"

With a flash Famine teleported out, and a second later she was back—with another person.

"This is Mayor Edward Kelly of Bayville," Famine smiled, an arm around the mayor like they were best friends. "He's been… briefed on our plan. What do _you_ think, Mayor?"

"I… there's no escape," the mind-controlled Kelly said, his face completely devoid of any hope, his eyes distant. "We have no chance of beating these Mutants. Just lay down your weapons, say your prayers if you wish… and wait for death. Or, if you can't stand waiting for something like that, like me…"

The cameraman audibly gasped as Mayor Kelly wordlessly broke away from Famine and walked to the side of the rooftop, jumping off of it into the crowd far, far below.

"Well, _he_ gets it," Famine said. "But maybe you're still having doubts… doubts that we can actually kill _all_ of you, perhaps. I think I'll now demonstrate just how much Mayor Kelly is right, that there's no escape…"

Famine looked down at the people fleeing, and gestured for the cameraman to sweep over the chaos below. "You see everyone down there trying to get away? They're going down three different avenues. I think it's time to cut them off."

With a flick of her wrist, Famine sent three pink energy daggers sailing far and wide, each dagger striking a separate skyscraper in the distance. The entirety of the three buildings disappeared in a bright flash of light, only to reappear a couple hundred feet above the ground—upside-down- right at the head of the surge of people fleeing down each of the three corridors.

The cameraman couldn't help but gasp again, his grip on his camera shaking as he reluctantly filmed the three skyscrapers plowing into the three avenues of escape, the tearing of brick and metal deafening as they landed on the masses of people, a thick dust and a heavy rumble rolling out from the impact sites as the upside-down skyscrapers continued to crumple and crack, the parts nearest the top beginning to break apart and topple down to the street as well.

After about a minute of surveying the carnage, Famine motioned for the cameraman to bring the camera back up to her, but he was shaking so bad she simply sighed and manually brought it up to herself.

"You just disobeyed an order, did you?" Famine tsk-tsked.

"No, n-no!" the cameraman replied, panicking. "I was just… what you just did…"

"I know, it was pretty impressive," Famine said with a smug smile. "But still, you're too distracted, and I don't need that. Bye."

"No, wait—" the cameraman began, but Famine flung an energy dagger at him, teleporting him off the side of the building—and right in front of where the camera was aimed, off the side of the roof towards the panicking, screaming masses down below. The cameraman cried out as he followed Kelly's lead towards the pavement far below.

"Oh, and just in case anyone watching thinks that if you don't run, if you do what we say, we'll spare you—yeah, I just lied to that cameraman. But for a better example, let's take the crowd in the middle here, huh? They haven't fled—or at least, they're too scared to, yet. Let's see how things turn out for them."

Famine flung another energy dagger out at another skyscraper a few blocks to the east, and just as before, it re-appeared upside-down a couple dozen feet over the middle of the masses down below. As it crashed and crumpled to the ground, the resulting avalanche of debris swept out over those who had managed to miss being crushed by any of the four buildings so far, combining with the other debris clouds and within a few more seconds, the crowds below were completely obscured by the expanding opaque clouds.

* * *

><p>The X-Men had watched silently as the disaster unfolded on the television. All of them were either white-faced or had tears running down their cheeks by this point.<p>

"Th-they've _got_ t' let us out now—" Gambit began, but cut himself off as the Mutant who appeared to be some sort of mutated version of Blink began speaking to the camera again.

"One more thing to address before the broadcast ends," Blink said. "I'm betting you're wondering what the X-Men are going to do—to stop us, since it worked so well last time."

Xavier's eyes suddenly went wide. "Everyone out. NOW!"

"Wait, what?" Kitty asked, turning around.

"I'll show you EXACTLY what they're going to do," Blink continued on the television screen.

"It's—why they bottled us in here! There's no time—out of the Mansion! EVERYONE!" Xavier shouted.

"Monet?" Rogue asked, her eyes rolling up behind her lids for a split-second before they came back down, Monet's voice replying, "On it."

"We've got to get Maverick and—" Hank started.

"NO TIME!" Xavier shouted as Rogue/M grabbed his hoverchair and blasted forward with it towards the foyer, the others quickly getting up and following her.

On the television that was still on as they left the room, Blink let fly another pink energy dagger at the black outline of a familiar silhouette in the distance. "They're going to die. I'm going to make them how I like my hash browns. _Scattered and smothered_."

Rogue had barely crashed out through the front glass doors, carrying Professor X below her, as a bright pink flash of light erupted above them, quickly disappearing as a huge shadow fell over the Mansion grounds, blocking the moonlight. A split second later, the Empire State Building—upside-down—began to crash right onto the Mansion.

* * *

><p>Sinister glanced at his watch.<p>

_12:10 a.m., Eastern Standard Time. I've held back long enough—hiding like this is infantile. As Death, I should have been the one to make the first move anyways._

Sinister walked out of the thicket of bare shrubbery he had been hiding in, and into the morning sunlight. It may have been midnight in New York City, but he was certainly _not_ in New York City.

Sinister breathed in a fresh breath of air, and noticed as one of the guards in front of the building's gate looked at him funny and shouted something.

"So sorry," Sinister said, raising his hands. "I don't speak Russian."

The guards leveled their weapons at him, but Sinister was done holding back with his powers. He let them out in a limited, low-level burst, the mirage-like visual field surrounding him sweeping outwards until it engulfed the guards.

Within a matter of a few seconds, the guards all dropped to the floor—all of them quickly growing old and shriveled, then their flesh decaying, and then their bones breaking apart into dust. One had even managed to fire a bullet from his rifle before he went down, but it crackled into powder as it hit Sinister.

What's more, wisps of a smoke-like substance leaked from them as they rapidly aged and died, all flowing into Sinister.

Death smiled as he "inhaled" the wisps. Although he certainly had felt good to begin with, he somehow felt stronger, more alive.

"Wonderful. Let's turn this up, then," Death smiled, and the mirage-like spherical field surrounding him expanded tenfold.

Although it was in the middle of the winter and the plants were already in dormancy, all of them caught within the field immediately rotted away, then dissipated into dust. Rocks broke apart and crumbled into pebbles in a matter of seconds, the pavement cracked and split everywhere, and walls began to crumble and fall. Seeing the chaos, most nearby people began to flee screaming, but a few of the nearby soldiers came by to see what was happening, guns ready-only to crumble into a dust that mixed with everything else.

Death inhaled again and held out his hand, an energy scythe appearing in it.

Death looked at the arm holding the scythe, and noticed that it was a little different—a little more muscular, a little thicker, some of the veins in it bulging through the skin.

"I feel like I could take on the whole _city_," Death said, and looked up to the building he had appeared out in front of—the Kremlin.

"I think, though, that I'll start with just this part," Death smirked, and casually strode towards the Kremlin, everyone and everything crumbling into dust in his path.

* * *

><p>At first, it started out as a low tremble, which caused many of the citizens going about their daily business to suddenly stop in their tracks, looking fearfully at the ground—and then it stopped.<p>

Most sighed and continued to drive, walk, and bike down the partly cloudy noon-day streets of Shanghai, but the trembling soon began again—and intensified, quickly.

Once the trembling began to crumble the cement and streets, the uneasiness and yells quickly turned to screams. Most tried to get to cover, bracing for the worst of the earthquake, but as it continued, it became clear that this wasn't a normal earthquake.

Rather, a huge section of the city was, in fact, _rising_ above the other.

As the separation between the rising section of the city and the rest became more and more gaping, many on the rising quarter, desperately, tried to jump off onto lower ground before the gap grew even taller—only a lucky few managed to make it down to the ground without dying as soon as they hit it.

Those who weren't on top of the growing bulge in the city could only run away as the earthquakes settled down in the rest of the city, concentrating on a smaller and smaller area around the rising section.

They were soon blocked, however, as relatively small portions of the roads themselves rose up and shaped themselves into roughly nine-foot-tall, humanoid asphalt elementals with gorilla-like stances.

"You're not going anywhere," muttered one as it caught a fleeing Chinese girl in its hand trying to squeeze its way between two of them, and pulled the screaming girl back up to its face. "You're gonna want to watch this."

"Why am I bothering?" said the one next to it in the exact same deep, crackling voice, shaking its grayish-black head. "Like most of the people in this city will understand English. I really wish I had Blink's location. Man, that woulda been sweet."

Several blocks over, another identical asphalt-man sighed as it looked at the people struggling to get past it and all the other copies of it that were slowly forming a circular perimeter around the rising section of the city. It perked up, though, when it heard a blonde-haired man next to it scream, "What is going on?!"

"Ah, an English speaker," said the avatar, jerking up the man by the foot. "Not a native, judging by your looks. Probably here on business. Sucks for you. Well, at least some of my audience will fully appreciate this. I think you'll want to look behind you."

Turning, the man looked around as the rising part of the city—over four blocks wide, at its top—rose up higher and higher, sloughing off debris on the underside, with the exception of four pillars roughly at its corners. Within another deafening minute as the ground of the city continued to crumble and churn underneath it, some of the skyscrapers on the top of the rising pile fell over the side and onto the rest of the city below it. It became clear that the rising mound of earth was, in fact, shaping itself—into a giant, colossal humanoid figure with the same proportions as the legion of nine-foot asphalt avatars surrounding it.

Another half-minute, and all the features of the red-tinted colossus—whose head nearly reached the clouds—had formed.

"Hello, Shanghai!" the colossus boomed, the voice deafeningly loud as relatively small, blood red lights that served as "eyes" suddenly shot out of two holes in the face. The crumbling skyscrapers on its back still teetered and tottered, more and more of them sloughing off the sides of the enormous rock-man as he addressed his audience. "Now, I don't know if this is true or not, but I know back in America there's been rumblings that you guys—China, I mean, or at least your leaders—that you want to go to war soon. With Japan, Taiwan, us, whomever—I don't care. The point is, it sounded like maybe you guys wanted war. Well, I'm not the kind of War you guys probably had in mind—but here I am, anyways. Enjoy."

War raised a giant arm out of the ground, reached back until the top of it was actually poking into the clouds, and then with a roar, pummeled it into the city with all of his might.

The resulting impact crater after the dust had settled was well over two miles wide.

* * *

><p>A six-year-old boy was awakened by the sound of his bedroom door opening. Looking up, he gasped as he saw an unfamiliar blonde-haired, tall teenage girl enter his room. It wasn't just a normal-looking teenager, though—the boy shrieked and backed up against the wall his bed was against as he saw the human was sporting claws, insect-like eyes, and two large mandibles poking out of its mouth.<p>

"Yes, this is the one," the insect-girl clicked, and the boy shrieked again as another insect-girl entered his room—this one identical in looks, but only shoulder-height to the first.

"I'm freaking him out," both of the insect-girls said simultaneously. "Better de-cloak."

The boy looked, his maw agape as the images of the insect-girls suddenly shimmered and faded.

"…_M-mum_?" the boy asked. "Daddy?"

His mother instinctively took a step back as the boy rushed out to hug her. He looked up, curious and hurt as to why she had drawn back from him.

"I'm not your mother, Michael," said the woman in the insect-girl's voice, shaking her head. "And the man standing next to me is not your father. Not anymore."

The confusion on the Michael's face caused both the woman and man to sigh simultaneously.

"We're not—" began both in the same voice, but they glanced at each other. When the woman spoke next, it was only her.

"I _was_ your mother," the woman explained. "However, you need to realize something—the apocalypse has come for human kind, and I—your father, every human within a thirty-mile radius here in London—we've all been taken over. Possessed."

"P-possessed?" Michael stuttered, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks again as he slowly backed up to his bed, inching back against the wall again.

"Yes," said the woman. "Five teenagers—Pestilence, we now call ourselves—set off a—what's the best word… a 'mind bomb' just a few minutes ago. We now have mental control over every human within that radius—and we're all going off to war against those outside of the radius. Once our numbers dwindle, then we—Pestilence—will set off another mind bomb, and continue the cycle."

"I-if everyone is p-possessed," Michael managed to eek out despite his quickly dampening pajama bottoms, "And you're not my mum and daddy anymore—why wasn't I… p-possessed?"

"Because you're a Mutant, like us," the woman responded. "Your powers just haven't manifested yet—you're too young. Don't worry, we're under strict orders not to hurt any Mutant unless they try to hurt us back."

"You won't hurt us or try to stop us, will you?" the man asked.

Michael simply stared ahead at them for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"Good," they both smiled. Together, they continued, "Now, just stay here in your house, alright? If you're telling us the truth and don't interfere with all the fighting, one of us will be by daily to make sure you're taken care of until this is all over. It may not be _us_—the people who used to be your mother and father—but it will be _one_ of us."

The boy almost hid under his blanket again as his mother and father's images flickered away, replaced by the insect-girl's visages again.

"This is what we—the five girls—look like," his former parents both said. "You see, this is why we looked this way when we first entered your room—it's a psychic projection."

When they saw the sudden blank look behind Michael's tears, they both sighed and continued, "In body, we are your mother and father. But we are _putting images into your mind_ of how the people look who now have control of our bodies. This is to make things simpler—so you and everyone else knows who is controlled by us and who is not. If you turn on the television, you may see a bunch of different people fighting each other—but if you were to look at that same scene you see on the television yourself, in person, you would see a bunch of _copies of us_ fighting the enemy. Do you understand?"

Michael didn't say anything, but Pestilence could tell via a quick mind-scan that he didn't.

"Why do I waste my time with young kids?" his former mother and father both said, shrugging as they looked at each other. "Here. I'm feeding my recent memories into your mind now."

Michael simply blinked, a partial new set of memories now suddenly his. He understood… and quickly hid under the covers of his sheets, crying softly to himself.

"Good enough," his former parents said, frustrated, then proceeded to close the door to his room, leaving the boy by himself.

* * *

><p>Apocalypse couldn't remember the last time he had smiled without the hint of a sneer or a smirk in it.<p>

And yet, that was the expression on his face as he monitored the global communications signals, now that the first initial reports were coming out about the Horsemen attacks. Television, radio, internet—it was all incredibly easy to hack with the technology in front of him. Though much of his cybernetics had been lost when he had been trapped in time, the light blue "scars" running along much of his otherwise gray chest—as well as his blue arms—were easy reminders that he still had enough of the advanced nanites swarming through his bloodstream that he was able to process the information at a far faster pace than any human.

The plan was working perfectly. The X-Men were crippled, and casualties were mounting at an impressive rate in New York City, London, Moscow, and Shanghai. Once his horsemen had finished with those cities, they would move onto the next ones, and continue until the Reaping was complete.

Still, it was amusing to see that, amidst all the panic reported amongst the various news outlets and networks, there was—almost—relief coming from those based in the Southern Hemisphere. Since all the attacks were in the Northern Hemisphere so far, it appeared, they were safe—at least temporarily.

It was a lot more "temporarily" than they imagined, however.

"Lord Apocalypse," came an emotionless voice over a comlink. "The last link in corridor 978 is repaired. All systems are now fully online."

_Excellent_, Apocalypse sent back telepathically. _Continue to monitor the systems as we engage the engines, Forge._

Apocalypse manipulated several of the virtual buttons and menus displayed on the control console out in front of him, and many of the screens displayed both small and large in the room changed from various media feeds to images of frozen wastelands covered in ice and snow drifts.

Apocalypse pressed forward on a virtual lever on the command console, and the entire structure began to shake violently again—while the screens showed the ice and snow beginning to crack and break up.

_It's time the world truly learns what they're in for._

* * *

><p>"Uh… Director Fury..."<p>

"What is it, Stevens?!" Fury barked from the other side of the helicarrier's command hub. "We've got quite a lot on our hands, now!"

"Sir, I'm getting exceedingly strong tremors coming from… dear _god_…"

The tone in S.H.I.E.L.D. Tech Stevens' voice caught Fury's attention immediately, and he quickly made his way over to his subordinate's station. "Tremors? Somewhere other than Shanghai, now?"

"No, _these_ tremors… they're… they're a solid 10, sir. On the Richter scale."

"What?! From where?"

"That's… that's the thing sir. It's… not from a location that gets earthquakes, and it's so widespread… Here, let me bring up the feed from our satellites orbiting down there…"

Fury looked at the satellite footage being fed through the screen in front of them, and his mouth went agape, the toothpick in it falling to the floor.

"The sheer _size_ of these cracks, sir, the rate at which they're spreading…. Dear _god_, sir, look at this- the _entire continent_ of Antarctica—it looks like it's starting to _tear itself apart_."

To be continued…

_(Ending Note: The poem that Blink quotes before she begins her attack is—with one obvious change—from "The Gods of the Copybook Headings", by Rudyard Kipling.)_


End file.
